


Mrs. and Mrs. Smith

by Rheaird_of_Life



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: All that being said this is actually more humourous than angsty, Alternate Universe, And not just from eve, And yes they are still married, F/F, So If you Don't Like That Sort Of Thing Don't Read, So yes there is cheating involved, The whole thing is basically centred around blackmail and cheating, Yes Niko is in this thing, not so secret relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2019-11-18 20:10:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 78,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18125909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rheaird_of_Life/pseuds/Rheaird_of_Life
Summary: Oksana 'Wild Child' Astankova is a known player, but that doesn't stop Eve from being seduced, or from getting her heart broken. The really awkward part: they're co-stars in a romantic spy comedy.or that movie star au





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Yes, the movie within the story is a gay reboot of Mr. and Mrs. Smith...but only really in title so far as I don't recall the film at all and haven't bothered to look it up yet lol)

“She has PTSD because of some ice cream I knocked on her shirt?! Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Oksana storms over to the mini-fridge and yanks so hard that her silk robe opens too. She snatches a small bottle of fireball, cracks it open with a savage twist, and downs the entire thing in one go. It burns brutally, chokes her, makes her eyes water, but she's determined to feel something other than mind-numbing rage and the urge to trash her hotel room.

“So you don't deny that you did it?”

Apparently her efforts were for naught because she is still utterly seething at this latest benign utterance.

“Of course I fucking did it! And I'd do it again! That little shit said she hated me and my movies!” She tosses the empty bottle aside carelessly and then blindly grabs another bottle from the still open fridge. “And that's another thing, why the _fuck_ is an _eight_ year old watching my movies anyway!” She wrenches the bottle open and takes a swig. Rum this time. She hates rum. “Her parents should be the ones on trial! Not me! She probably got PTSD from the films! They're sick as fuck!”

“Be that as it may, Oksana, they want-”

She whips the gross booze at his head, as if it's his fault that she's in this situation. Clearly he was anticipating such a thing because he dodges in time, letting the bottle smash against the far wall, shattering. Rum explodes everywhere making a terrible mess.

“Don't say it, don't you fucking say it! I'm _not_ giving another _cent_ to any more opportunistic parents! I'm done being their fucking meal tickets!” She stomps her foot like a petulant child on the verge of having a tantrum, or well, _more_ of one. “This is the _final_ straw!”

Konstantin eyes her with disinterest as she goes for yet another bottle. He knows there's little point in telling her to slow down.

“If you don't give them something they'll make a big stink about it to the press.”

“It's their word against mine. No one would believe I'd do such a thing.”

“Yes, because you have such a sterling reputation,” he says dryly, to which she glares. “Besides which, you were sloppy. There's footage.”

Oksana's heart sinks. She had thought she had kept out of sight of any CCTV cameras, but obviously she was mistaken. Obviously her rage had taken hold and she had missed one. Unless...

“Have you actually _seen_ the footage? Maybe they're bluffing?”

He looks her dead in the eye and says, “Was it really necessary to swirl it around on her chest too like in _Princess Diaries_?”

She smirks to herself internally. That was _precisely_ where she got the inspiration from.

To cover up her fierce pride at emulating an early 2000's classic, Oksana takes a long draught from the third bottle. Vodka this time. Much better.

“Even with the video they can't _prove_ it was me. I was in disguise.”

“There's a close up of your gleeful face towards the end.”

Fuuuuck.

When she thinks she can handle this next bit of information she begrudgingly asks, “How much do they want?”

“They'd be willing to part with the incriminating evidence for five hundred thousand dollars. Plus five percent royalties from any future projects.”

Before his sole client can explode again, Konstantin adds, “Might I remind you that you're on thin ice as it is. You were lucky to get this role. Not many studios will touch you anymore. If this gets out, they'll drop you within seconds.” He shakes his head slowly. “Assaulting a child, Oksana...now really...you're better than this.”

She huffs in irritation and finishes off the bottle. The alcohol has served its purpose and she's feeling much more mellow and agreeable to whatever her manager is suggesting. She still doesn't like it one bit, but even _she_ can realize when she's fighting a losing battle.

“Give them whatever they want,” she grumbles, unceremoniously plopping herself onto the six foot long, starkly white couch. Her robe is fully open now and she's only wearing her underwear – an unusual but sexy peach number complete with upper and lower zipper that make her tits look amazing - but she couldn't care less if Konstantin sees. He's seen far more over the years, on and off screen, and he's never once tried anything with her. A rarity in her line of work. If she didn't know any better she'd say he were gay, but she _does_ know better. Konstantin is as straight as they come.

Her manager has yet to leave and he never loiters, which means there's more.

“What else?” she groans, running a hand through her sleep mussed hair. It's still ridiculously early. Stupid Konstantin always insisted on pestering her at the crack of dawn when she was at her crankiest. If she were actually a killer like the characters she portrayed on screen, he would've been long dead by now. She supposed he had their meetings at this ungodly time of day because he always knew where he would find her. And perhaps he still vainly hoped he might minimize the amount of fallout she wreaked if he got in her head early enough in the day.

“There's the matter of your co-star, Eve Yang.”

“What about her?” she answers innocently, knowing full well what he's about to say.

“Did you really have to go and sleep with her before you even _started_ filming?”

“I didn't,” she replies automatically, well versed in denying the many, many, _many_ accusations flung at her on a monthly basis.

“The glass of water to the face would suggest otherwise.”

“You know about that?”

She has to admit, she's a bit impressed. They had been incognito at the time. In a private booth. Not even the paparazzi had known they were there.

“It's my job to know these things.”

“Are you stalking me, Konstantin?” she says conversationally, trying to divert attention away from herself, if only momentarily. “Because I've been feeling like someone's stalking me.” She hops up and pats his cheek like he's a misbehaving child. “Do you get off on following women around?”

Konstantin continues to remain unruffled. He was no fun.

“Why did she throw the water in your face last night?”

“How should I know?” shrugs Oksana. She honestly didn't get it. They were having a perfectly pleasant time and then Eve just tossed the full glass in her face and stormed out.

Konstantin gives her a pointed look. Waits.

She throws her hands up. “I _don't_ _know_ why. We went out for dinner a few times and that's it. I swear.” Switching gears at the drop of a hat she takes his tie in her hands and strokes it a few times. “Is this new? It really compliments the gray in your beard.” She looks him in the eye. “Very sexy.”

Completely ignoring this blatant flattery and seduction he says, “You were seen entering this very room together three nights ago. She didn't leave until morning. Hardly subtle.”

She lets go of his tie, turns, and paces a few steps away. After a moments thought she turns back. “We were going over our lines. It took longer than we thought it would. We passed out on the couch together. That's it.”

Konstantin observes her like she's a terrible liar. Which she isn't. He just knows her too well.

He glances off to the side momentarily and then back up into her puzzled gaze.

“You had sex on that couch, didn't you?”

She could keep denying things but there seems little point now.

“Four times, yeah.”

She puts on her most sheepish expression, like it was an accident. Like she just accidentally ended up knuckles deep in her co-star with the amazing hair over and over again.

Recalling the events of that night causes her to go slightly cross-eyed, staring through him, a dumb expression across her face. Eve really had been one of her better fucks...

Oksana startles out of her reverie when Konstantin snaps loudly in her face.

“Enough naughty thoughts. Focus.”

She blinks back into the present and Konstantin's less than amused expression. Poor guy looked really tired. Considering all the fires he was constantly putting out for her, it was no wonder that she was prematurely aging him. Occasionally she felt a little badly about overworking him so much, and she tried to behave herself for a time. But denying herself usually resulted in an even bigger scandal and an even bigger headache for Konstantin. Better to just act impulsively in the moment than to keep it in. More fun that way too.

“Is she still willing to work with you?”

“I don't see why not,” she says, flopping back down onto the sex couch. This time fully on her back. Not unlike the other night. If she isn't much mistaken, it still smells a bit of Eve. She takes a deep whiff in confirmation. She cocks her head to the side. “It's not like I forced her to do anything she didn't want to do. In fact, if anyone should be wary of working with her, it's me. She's quite the kinky freak. You wouldn't believe the shit she wanted me to do to her. Practically satanic.”

Unimpressed, Konstantin just looks at her.

“Okay, fine, that _might_ be an exaggeration.” She jabs a finger in his direction. “But she _definitely_ isn't vanilla.”

Konstantin sighs. “Can you _please_ just keep it in your pants for the duration of the film? If not for me, than for the sake of what's left of your career?”

Oksana makes a noncommittal sound.

“Call Eve and fix this.”

“What, like right now?” she says raising a quizzical eyebrow. “It's the ass crack of dawn, Konstantin, and we don't start filming until tomorrow. She won't be up yet. No sane person would be.”

And even if she is up, she won't answer. Oksana had already tried that last night.

“Call her anyway and leave a message. Be diplomatic. Say you want to meet.” He pauses a second, looking around the space. “ _Not_ here. Somewhere public. But not _too_ public.”

He stands there waiting for her to make a move, and when she doesn't he goes into the bedroom and comes back out with her phone. Every time she sees it, her mouth waters a little. Her phone case is a picture of a hyper realistic piece of traditional Russian honey cake. Nothing special. Completely innocuous. Except for the connotations that came with it.

Konstantin tosses it into her lap.

“Call her. _Now_. On speakerphone.”

Oksana grumbles but does as he says, knowing it's futile.

The voicemail plays in the usual expected way and then, “... _and if t_ _his is Oksana, you can hang up right now. I don't want to hear it.”_

Well, that was new.

Konstantin doesn't bother remarking, he simply reaches over to the glass coffee table and ends the call when it beeps. “We don't want to antagonize her further. The truth now, do you really have no idea what you did to her?”

“Okay, you got me.” She sighs dramatically and with a straight face says, “I fucked her best friend so hard that he died of a heart attack.”

Surprised, Konstantin lets out a bark of laughter.

Pleased with herself, she gets up again and goes over to the balcony to think, hoping the fresh Berlin air will help clear her buzzed mind. She's up pretty high and she can see a great deal of the city stretching out before her, or at least, she _would_ be able to if the sun were doing more than peaking against the horizon. There's a gust of wind which causes her to shiver, and it's then that she realizes her robe is still undone and her lingerie is on full display. She's about to do up her sash when the flash of light goes off.

Nowadays she could barely take a shit without the vultures descending.

If they wanted a show, she'd give them a show.

She lets her robe fall off her shoulders completely, juts her chest out and shimmies around like they're at a dance party.

More flashes follow, frantic, like sharks during feeding time.

“Get away from there,” commands Konstantin. “ _Now_.”

“That's right, get your fill, you pervs!” she shouts, ignoring him.

Abruptly she stops dancing and aggressively thrusts out both of her middle fingers, alternating them up and down like they're on a see-saw.

“How about this, you fucks?! You like this?!”

The near blinding wave of light suggests they do. Very much so.

“Oksana, I'm warning you-”

Instead of listening, she picks up the brand new and pristine plastic chair here and chucks it in the general direction of the flashes as hard as she can.

“Get a _real_ job!” she screams, for good measure as it sails through the air.

Neither the demand nor the chair throwing has any impact whatsoever on the rate at which pictures are being taken. The only result is a broken chair. And a growing list of miscellaneous expenses to the hotel.

It's at this point that Konstantin himself makes an appearance, using his body to shield hers from further scrutiny. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't have to. His body language is threatening enough. She half expects him to hoist her up over his shoulder and drag her away kicking and screaming, but instead he just walks forward until she's been backed into the hotel room and out of sight of the cameras. It's _then_ that he grabs her by the shoulders a bit roughly and seems on the verge of shaking her, or worse. For a brief moment she's even afraid of him. He almost never touches her. And he's a big guy.

“Would it kill you to behave for _one_ day?” he hisses, losing his composure for the first time in a long time. “Or do you enjoy making my life a living hell?”

She shoves him off her. “If I'm such a _pain_ in the ass, why do you stick around?!”

“Because I promised your _father_ I would look after you! And unlike _you_ , my word actually _means_ something!”

Then he storms out the door, slamming it as he goes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah...Oksana's a bit of a handful in any reality lol. Poor Konstantin. I promise she's not quite so unhinged in the upcoming chapter :p


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna post this Friday/Saturday and keep this on a weekly schedule but then I remembered that The OA was dropping then, so I had to post this before I got totally sidetracked by that epicness.
> 
> So anyway, they interact this chapter. It's uh...interesting.

 

Eve is busy reviewing her scenes for the day when someone sits down beside her. She doesn't need to look to know who. She can smell that damn enticing perfume. She can feel her treacherous body reacting to it. Eve clenches the script tighter in both hands and redoubles her effort to remain unaffected. To not engage.

“Hey.”

That single syllable causes her to twitch in place. Eve has always had a weakness for foreign accents, and Oksana's is an unusual amalgamation of multiple languages brought on by the varied travel of her childhood. The Holy Grail as far as Eve's concerned.

So it is that Eve's pleased with herself when she manages to completely ignore her.

“You've been avoiding me.”

That was an understatement. Eve refused all of her phone calls. And texts. She refused to answer the five minutes of incessant knocking. She even refused to leave her hotel room – which was just down the hall to Oksana's - until she was _forced_ to today. At one point a letter had even slipped under the door...which she promptly tore up without reading. Eve was almost surprised that Oksana hadn't bribed the concierge to give her a keycard, or stolen one from the cleaning staff. After all, as had been recently illustrated in vivid detail, Oksana had no boundaries.

“Are you mad at me?”

She scoffs. What a ludicrous question. This woman is ridiculous. How she ever fell for her supposed charm, Eve will never know. (Except she totally knows).

“Why?”

Unable to take the inanity anymore, she whips her head up to give Oksana a piece of her mind. But in so doing she gets an eyeful of her co-star, and the words die on her tongue. Oksana has clearly just come from hair and makeup. She's done up to the nines; her hair is in a low hanging braided bun and she's wearing a Dries Van Noten power suit, complete with harlequin-like pattern. Fitting for such a joke of a woman. Except, she's far from a joke in this particular moment. She's absolutely striking.

Oksana smiles slightly like she knows exactly what Eve is thinking.

Eve frowns. “You _know_ why.” Then with considerable effort she tears her gaze away and back to her script. Not that she's actually taking any of it in anymore.

Oksana chuckles. “Would I ask if I did?”

Sneakily, and before Eve can protest, she takes Eve's hand in hers and rubs a thumb tantalizing across her knuckles. Shivers erupt all over. Her heart rate skyrockets. Flashes of their steamy night together swim into view. She focuses on keeping her breathing slow and steady.

“Talk to me, Eve. What did I do to offend you?”

Eve yanks her hand away like she's been burned. And she has, just not in a temperature sense. She wouldn't let Oksana tempt her again. The less they touched, the better. The memory of what those youthful fingers could do to her again causes her to lose track of their current conversation. Or lack there-of.

She swallows, and again Oksana smiles at her like she is a mind reader.

“You _can't_ be that clueless.”

“Guilty as charged,” quips Oksana, in an annoyingly chipper way. It's obvious she's not taking this predicament as seriously as she should be.

“We're at work,” she glares, causing Oksana to sober suddenly. “Now's not the time to get into this.”

“Well, when _would_ be a good time?” returns Oksana, a hint of irritation peeking through her calm demeanor. “If you keep avoiding me _outside_ of work, you're not leaving me much choice. Seriously, Eve, what gives?”

Finally Eve resigns herself to the confrontation. It is inevitable. Better to get things out in the open before the tension reaches epic proportions and ruins every take.

Eve takes a deep breath and then focuses all of her attention on her beguiling co-star. She grips the edges of her chair so as to offset the impending urge to strangle her.

“For starters, you were shamelessly flirting with the waitress.”

“I flirt with everyone, Eve. It's just my way.”

Oksana says this patiently like she is explaining a simple lesson to a slow child.

The condescension grates on Eve's nerves. She grips her hands tighter.

“Is it also your way to suggest threesomes with random strangers?”

“Is that what this is about?” chuckles Oksana once more. “I was joking.”

Eve grits her teeth, incredibly annoyed at her cavalier attitude. Her hands are starting to ache from the force with which she is bearing down on her chair.

“Were you joking when you stuck your _tongue_ down her throat?...And your _hand_ down her pants?”

“You saw that?” blinks Oksana in surprise. For once it seems like she realizes she's been found out. The politely puzzled mask falls to be replaced with apparent remorse. “It was a moment of weakness. I didn't mean for that to happen,” she gives out lamely, trying to reach for Eve again. Eve pulls back before her hand can make contact.

“Sure seemed like it. You were really going at it. I'm surprised you didn't suffocate her to death.” Eve gets up to give herself a height advantage as she angrily whispers, “If you want to _fuck_ other people, do it on your own time. Not on _mine_.”

Then she marches off to the bathroom to compose herself. Except she never gets the chance.

The door pushes open and before she realizes what's going on, Oksana has her pinned against the wall. She doesn't touch Eve, only keeps her there with her hypnotizing force of will.

She hits Eve with her best watery eyed puppy dog look. “I'm so, _so_ sorry, Eve,” she says, emotion springing forth in spades. “I made a stupid mistake. You're really important to me. I don't want to lose you.” Here she chokes back a sob. “I couldn't bear it if I did. Please just give me a second chance.” She clasps her hands together, beseeching. “It won't happen again.” A single tear trails down her cheek. “I promise,” she whispers forlornly.

For a second this tactic almost works. For a second she almost believes her.

Eve steels herself. “Somehow I doubt your word means anything.”

Oksana sizes her up for a moment, and in the blink of an eye morphs once more. She was known for being chameleon like, changing herself as needs be for whatever situation she found herself in. A useful ability for her given trade. And a well documented one. There's no trace of hurt evident when she runs her fingertip slowly down Eve's arm, eliciting a plethora of goosebumps.

Eve knows she's in trouble now. They're alone with no one to see. No one to save her. So unless she gets out of this predicament quickly, she knows exactly what's going to happen.

Unfortunately, just when she's about to bolt, Oksana places both of her hands on the wall beside her head, and leans in closer until their chests are just brushing. Eve bites down a moan when her nipples instantly harden at the barely there, yet delicious contact.

“I want to fix this, baby,” breathes out Oksana seemingly sincerely. Her nose skirts along the shell of her ear sending forth another cavalcade of shivers. “Tell me how to do that and I'll do it.”

Logically, Eve knows exactly what she's trying to do. Logically she understands that this is yet more blatant seduction. Still, even knowing this, it's getting increasingly difficult to stay on track with Oksana so near and muddling her senses. 

“ _Don't_ ,” she warns, without much conviction.

“Don't, _what_ , Eve? Make you feel good? Don't you want to feel good? Don't you want my _fingers_ inside you?” 

Eve can't help the gasp that escapes her at the thought. Emboldened by this, one of Oksana's hands snakes down to her hip, squeezes.”Don't you want me to _fuck_ you right now?”

Unbidden, a flood of wetness makes itself known down below.

The throbbing starts after Oksana's next words.

“You taste amazing, baby.” She nuzzles into the crook of her neck. “Let me taste you again.”

If Oksana were a male colleague Eve knows she'd probably be filing sexual harassment charges right about now. It's a shitty double standard, but it's there. And Eve can't bring herself to care.

She wants Oksana to fuck her again. She _needs_ her to. She can't help it. Despite everything, she still wants her, painfully so. She can't remember the last time she had been fucked so well. And the damn temptress knows just what to do and say to make it so that _Eve_ ends up being the one begging for it.

She nods, and she can feel Oksana's smile against the hypersensitive skin of her neck.

“Okay, baby,” says Oksana, placing a light kiss there. Eve feels it everywhere, and once more has to stifle the moan. “I'm going to take care of you now.”

Oksana starts kissing her neck in earnest, yet still holding back enough so as not to leave any marks. At least Eve hopes so. She doesn't know how she would explain the sudden presence of hickeys to her makeup artist. She's getting lost in a haze of pleasure, and all the reasons why this is _so_ dumb, so _wrong_ , are quickly evaporating.

There's little sense in her head when the overly warm hand on her hip grazes her stomach for a moment before attempting to slide into her pants. Except Eve's belt is too tight and prevents her from such easy access. Undeterred, Oksana's wandering hand moves to Eve's zipper instead.

In the too quiet bathroom, and her heightened state of mind, the sound of this being tugged down is like a gunshot going off. And like a gunshot, Eve startles back to reality and the clear and present danger before her.

Just as Oksana's fingers are about to make contact with her underwear, Eve hastily puts some space between them by ducking under the arm still firmly attached to the wall. The one closest to the exit. She fumbles to refasten her pants lest anyone should choose that inopportune moment to enter the bathroom.

For the second time that morning, Oksana blinks at her in surprise, like she can't believe her underhanded tactics didn't work, as if no one has ever refused her before. If Eve notices the obvious arousal in Oksana's eyes - something she can't fake - she ignores it. She very pointedly avoids checking herself out in the mirror. She knows she's probably a flustered mess. She had likely been seconds away from Oksana's fingers on her-

“Why do you want to fix this?” she manages after what feels like ages. “For _my_ sake? Or the _productions_?” When Oksana doesn't immediately respond, Eve snaps, “That's what I thought.”

Oksana pouts, changes tactics once more. “The only reason we're in this mess is because of you. If you hadn't seduced me the other night-”

“ _I_ seduced _you_?!” she chokes incredulously.

“Don't play innocent,” accuses Oksana, still trying to play the victim. “You've been flirting with me since day one.”

“It's called _acting_!” she yells exasperatedly, throwing her hands up in irritation.

Oksana jabs a finger in her direction.“It was more than that and you know it!”

Eve does know it, but she's not going to admit to it right then. She needs to regain control of the situation, and fast...before she does something stupid. Like let Oksana have her way with her.

“Let me make things crystal clear for you then. We'll do our jobs, we'll _act_ like we're in love, but beyond that, we're _nothing_ to each other.”

She turns to leave, then looks back to pierce her with a final glare. “And _don't_ call me baby.”

She thinks she hears a sarcastic 'sorry' on the way out of the bathroom.

Eve heads off set and into the blinding light of the brilliant day. She hurries past a bewildered Carolyn who is taking a drag on her cigarette, and the rat that's inexplicably drinking from a cola can with both hands. 

“What the fuck?” she absentmindedly mutters to herself as she looks for a remote and shaded area by the crews quarters. It's the middle of Spring, but it's already blazing hot out. No doubt courtesy of global warming. When she can't find a suitably unoccupied area fast enough, she instead leans against the nearest trailer, closes her eyes, and wills herself to calm down. They're due to start filming at any moment. And her underwear is soaked through. And her first scene is with Oksana, because _of course_ it is. She has half a mind to march into Bill's office right now and tell him she quits. She could do it. He'd understand. He'd never let her hear the end of it, especially if she tells him _why_ , but he'd understand.

A shadow flits by on the underside of her eyelids. “Oksana, I swear to God-”

“Having a lovers quarrel, are we?” says a different female voice.

She pops her eyes open to find Elena standing there, a croissant in hand. Immediately Eve's tummy rumbles. She was so anxious about dealing with Oksana today that she forgot to eat.

“I don't know what you mean,” she says shiftily, still eyeing the croissant.

Elena laughs. “Come _on_ , Eve. Everyone on set knows you have a thing for her. You were practically drooling when you met her for the table read.” Before Eve can defend her honour, Elena casually adds, “Did you sleep with her yet?”

In perhaps her worst acting performance to date, she sputters, “What?! Of course not! Don't be ridiculous! I would never! We're colleagues!”

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” prods Elena with perhaps the most overused Shakespearean phrase known to man.

“This lady most certainly does _not_ protest too much!” she says doing her best not to hyperventilate, or sound too hysterical. “You're crazy! I'm incredibly professional! I would never! I'm not even _gay_!”

Though the amount of times she came the other night would seem to belie that assertion. And well, the fact that she slept with her in the first place.

Elena laughs again. “Calm down. I was joking.” Something about her face must betray her because Elena's eyes go wide. “Wait, did you _actually_ sleep with her?” Eve hesitates too long with a comeback. “Oh my God. You _did_ , didn't you?”

“Keep your voice down,” she demands under her breath all but confirming Elena's suspicions.

Elena gives her a shit-eating grin. “So, what's the infamous Astankova like? Is she a good shag?”

Eve casts a nervous glance around the lot. You never knew who was listening. Deciding it's better to be safe than sorry, Eve forces Elena into the trailer, which just so happens to be occupied. Kenny blinks up at them owlishly from his breakfast of Lucky Charms. Kenny is twenty-five years old. 

“Did you just overhear what we were saying?” she asks, somewhat frantic, but doing her best to rein herself in.

Kenny looks around shiftily. “Uh...”

Her day just kept getting worse and worse.

“Nevermind him,” says Elena, waving him off. “Tell me the goss. I want to hear every juicy detail.”

“But _I_ don't,” mutters Kenny.

“Well, then, get out.”

“But it's _my_ trailer,” he says pathetically. 

“So...did she go down on you?” asks Elena conversationally, like they're discussing the weather in typical British fashion.

Kenny is out the door within seconds.

“Will you drop it?” groans Eve, collapsing into the recently vacated seat. Her stomach rumbles again at the close proximity to food, if you could even call it that. It will go soggy if she doesn't eat it, but she's too wound up to even make the attempt.

“Why, Eve?” badgers Elena smugly. “Don't like talking about the sexual prowess of your _much_ younger _lover_?”

Ignoring the jab at her age, Eve sighs, puts her head in her hands and says, “She cheated on me, okay?”

All the air seems to deflate out of Elena in one fell swoop. She gives Eve a conciliatory grimace. “Damn. Already? What a bitch.” A beat later, “Can't say I'm surprised though.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she says sarcastically.

“What?” shrugs Elena. “She's got a reputation. Everyone knows she's a player.”

“So that makes it okay?” says Eve a bit heatedly. She really didn't feel like being riled up again. She didn't think her body could take much more, and it was only eight in the morning.

“Of course not, Eve,” placates Elena, placing a hand on her hunched shoulder. She rubs soothingly for some seconds. “I'm sorry she hurt you, truly...but I'm just saying...you _must_ have known you weren't exclusive.”

Eve can still recall the viral clip of the young starlet on the red carpet when questioned about her questionable dating practices. The clip was all the more memorable because she had been arm in arm with not one gorgeous woman, but _two_.

“ _I_ _don't like this stupid dating word. I don't 'date' people. I've said as much countless times before. So I'm not a cheater, as you guys are so fond of saying. Cheaters are creeps who sneak around behind the backs of their partner. Everything I do is out in the open. What you see is what you get. People should take a page out of my book. They'd be much h_ _appier_.” _She smirked here and looked side to side at either woman, then back to the camera, and winked._ “ _Trust me_.”

But Oksana _had_ been a so-called creep. She had tried to initiate a threesome, and when that didn't go over well, she had gone and fucked the waitress in the bathroom on what was officially only their third date. Of course, Oksana, wouldn't use that ' _stupid_ ' word, but everyone _else_ did.

Elena hesitates a moment. “And...”

“And what?”

“Well, aren't you married?”

White hot guilt floods her system. She quells it as best she can. “Technically, yes,” she reluctantly admits. “But we're separated. Have been for over two months now.”

Elena looks at her quizzically. “Isn't that around the time of the table read?”

Eve doesn't respond. She can't believe how astute Elena is.

“ _Shiiit_ ,” says Elena lowly, going wide-eyed again, no trace of smugness this time. “You've got it _bad_ , don't you? No wonder you're so pissed.”

Before Eve can rant about just how pissed she really is, there's a knock at the trailer door. “They're ready for you, Ms. Yang.”

Eve groans. There's no escape now. It's time to face the music.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was like...what could O call E...and then I was like, duh! It still sounds strange for her to say it out loud though and I just kept thinking of a simple favor lol  
> So I guess dating = psychopath in this story haha. Though tbh, I'm pretty sure O has psychopathic tendencies regardless of the fact that she's not killing people.
> 
> Also, I'm kind of just drooling at the thought of Oksana on the red carpet with two babes on her arms. I don't know if any man irl has ever done that before (I don't watch awards shows) but I doubt any woman ever has.
> 
> So anyway, casual question here: if you had been in Eve's position, would you have let Oksana fuck you? :p


	3. Chapter 3

The music and lights pulse all around her as she makes her way to the target, gliding through the jumping, gyrating crowd like a ghost. Unfortunately, the myriad of sweaty bodies suddenly shift before her, forming a wall. When they part enough for her to pass, she's lost him.

“Watchman, do you have eyes on the target?” she mutters into her behind-the-ear-piece. It's a bone conduction type, favoured by the military, so she doesn't need to yell to be heard, or to hear, and her ability to monitor her surroundings are also unimpaired as a result.

“Check your four o'clock, Tiny Dancer,” comes the slightly delayed response as her partner remotely views the surveillance cameras within the high-end club.

“What did we say about changing the name mid-mission?” she murmurs, clenching her jaw.

He completely ignores her as he says, “There's movement at your seven, Phantom Menace. Could be a threat.”

“I swear to God, Sean, I'm gonna gut you when this is done.”

“Read you loud and clear, Rainbow Road.”

She rolls her eyes at her annoying virtual companion and looks towards the supposed threat at her seven o'clock. After a few moments contemplation she concludes there's no one unusual there either. Another false alarm. One more and she'd definitely be suspicious that they weren't alone.

Picking up the thread from where she left off, she scans for the mark. Eventually, she locates him moving towards the bathroom. It's the perfect place to deal with him. She doesn't know how long he'll be in there though, so she has to hurry now.

Double timing it, she pushes through the crowd more aggressively than she has thus far. When she's nearly out of the sea of bodies, she drops the dagger into her hand. She wants to be able to be in and out of the bathroom in seconds flat, a surefire way to make sure the mark never knows what hit him, and never has a chance to retaliate.

However, a moment after she exits the crowd, she bumps into someone.

Or perhaps they bump into her.

Hackles raised, she prepares for a fight, grip tightening on the deadly blade.

The interloper looks at her with the same determination, the same readiness to kill.

They both freeze when they realize who they have in their sights.

“Sandra?” she says, quickly schooling her surprise, and suspicion.

“Jodie?” responds her wife, equally confused.

With a practiced motion, she smoothly slips the dagger back up her sleeve, and directs half of her attention to her wife. The other half is still focused on the target entering the men's bathroom.

“What the hell is _she_ doing here?” says Sean too loudly in her ear. She nearly winces but manages to keep her face unmoved.

“What the _hell_ are you doing here?” she says loud enough to be heard over the incessant bass thumps.

“I could ask you the same question!” yells back Sandra with a frown. “I thought you said you had a fire to put out?”

“And I thought _you_ said you would be waiting up for me?”

They size each other up, trying to make sense of the situation, all the while their off location eyes and ears squawk in their respective ear pieces.

Jodie has a sudden understanding. She has been suspicious for awhile. But now her fears are confirmed.

“Where are they?!” she demands.

“Where are _who_?!” fires back Sandra.

“Whoever it is you're cheating on me with!” she roars.

One beat. Two beat. Eve misses her cue. Again.

“Cuuuut!”

Everyone groans as the lights come up and the music abruptly stops. Blessedly.

The extras get out of the way as Bill comes over to them. “That's the sixth time, Eve.” He puts his hand on her shoulder. “What's the problem?”

Eve's gaze flits to hers and then back to Bill's. “Nothing. I just keep forgetting my line.”

Bill looks at her like he doesn't quite believe her and then, “Okay, well, take another five and reacquaint yourself. Hell, take twenty. Then I _need_ you to get this right. We're starting to get behind schedule.”

“I _know_ all right,” mutters Eve, looking down. “I'm _trying_.”

“Well, try harder,” he says, not unkindly. He lifts her chin up. “First days are always a little intimidating. But I know you know what to do. So don't think. Just react.” 

They share a brief smile.

Oksana has worked with plenty of asshole directors, so she appreciates Bill. The fact that he is an uber fan of her previous works playing the anti-hero Villanelle also helped to ingratiate herself to him. After all, it's the main reason she got the job.

Eve heads off the club set, towards Elena. 

She watches her retreating figure for a moment, wondering if she should attempt to speak with her again. In the end, she decides it's not worth it. She'd probably do more damage than good. Still, she's starting to get pissed off at being called Rainbow Road over and over again. She hates that level of Mario Cart and has broken more than one television set while playing it.

“Water!” she barks to the pretty young thing off to the side. He springs into action and hands her the unopened bottle of Evian. She can't remember his name. It's S something. Or maybe M. Her PA's came and went so frequently that she could never keep track.

She chugs half the bottle before approaching Bill, who is talking to some of the extras. Apparently their dancing isn't quite right. They complain about being tired in response. It's not a very interesting conversation, so she doesn't think it matters much if she hijacks it.

He turns at her first utterance.

“We need to jack the volume way down if we're gonna keep this up. I'm getting a serious headache. And my voice is starting to go.”

“Already? We've only been filming for two hours!” he looks utterly horrified at this development. Even more so than the lethargic dancers.

It was possible that all of her ranting the previous day combined with the fireball _might_ have irritated her throat just a teeny tiny bit.

“Is it really that big a deal?” she shrugs. “We'll just re-do the shouting bits in post.”

They were going to have to re-do the muttering bits anyway, so what difference did it make?

“And you can make that seem realistic?” he inquires skeptically.

After a very slight contemplation she says, “Remember that monologue in the disco scene in _Take Me To The Hell Hole_? That was all done in post.”

“Really?” he grins like a child with stars in his eyes. “I never knew that.”

That's because she is totally lying, but she doesn't feel like shouting at full volume anymore just for authenticity's sake. Bill is too much of a purist for his own good. Or well, _her_ own good. And that's all that matters here.

“All right,” he says. “We'll turn it down for the next run.”

The fifteen or so minutes elapse in no time at all, the scene is reset and they begin once again. But not before a chorus of “ _You've got this, Eve_!” and “ _I believe in you_!” and other similar sentiments that cause Oksana to roll her eyes. They haven't even gotten to the difficult part yet. They should be saving it for that.

“Where are they?!”

“Where are _who_?!”

“Whoever it is you're cheating on me with!” she roars, albeit at half volume.

“What the _hell_ are you talking about?!” shoots back Eve with no hesitation.

_Fucking finally._

She's so used to Eve missing the cue that she nearly misses her own.

“Don't play dumb!” she scrambles to get in just in the nick of time.

“I'm not!”

“Then why are you here?!”

“Why are _you_?!”

She takes a moment to think, which is precisely what her character is supposed to do, and then in a more restrained manner says, “The truth is...sometimes I like to party. And you're...well...”

“What? _Old_?” scowls Sandra.

“A terrible dancer.”

“Like hell I can't dance,” retorts Sandra without thought.

Despite herself, and her mission, Jodie is intrigued at the surety in her voice. She half smiles. “Really? You repeatedly stepped on my foot at our wedding. Has something changed?”

Sandra sputters for a moment as she tries to cover her tracks. “I've been taking dance lessons,” she offers up at last. (In truth, she already knew how to dance prior to their wedding)

Jodie gives her a piercing stare. “Prove it.”

“For Godsakes, Eagle Bearer, we don't have time for this!!” exclaims Sean in her ear. “The target is on the move again!”

Jodie watches in fascination and growing arousal as Sandra raises her arms up and starts to sway her hips to the music. When Sandra briefly closes her eyes, apparently feeling the music, Jodie surreptitiously reaches up and turns the earpiece off. For the moment, she wants to devote her complete and undivided attention on her wife, and she can't do that with Sean whining in her ear.

Sandra's movements are fluid and sensual, and Oksana herself is starting to get a bit turned on. She itches to touch Eve, but she's not supposed to, at least, not yet. She has to wait for Eve to come to her. It seems to be an age and a day before she does, but the second she's in reach, Oksana places her hands on her hips and dances with her, matching her pace and rhythm with ease.

They had practiced this dance many times before, going over and over it again until the choreography was just so. Oksana's pretty sure it's the main reason they ended up in bed together the other night. She had been insanely turned on after grinding into Eve for what seemed like hours on end. There really had been no choice _but_ to sleep together. Besides, it's what their characters would've done if they hadn't needed to complete their respective missions.

Everything's going smoothly until she grabs Sandra's ass with both hands. (As scripted).

The second she does, Sandra pulls back and slaps her hard across the face. (Not scripted).

She hits her so hard Oksana actually stumbles off to the side slightly. (Fuck that hurts).

Beyond the subdued music, there's utter silence, and then, “Cuuuut!! Eve, what the hell was _that_?!”

Eve seems embarrassed and flustered by her slip up and completely at a loss for words.

“Are you okay?” calls Bill, presumably towards her.

Normally Oksana would be infuriated by anyone daring to strike her money maker. As it is, Oksana's lost in a cloud of lust. The last time they had been slapping each other, albeit in a decidedly different location, they had been naked.

She pins Eve with a heated look as she inspects the damage with a solitary finger. There's a single drop of blood on her cut lip which she then sticks on the tip of her tongue and swallows.

Eve looks at her a little wide-eyed and gulps. She fidgets awkwardly under Oksana's intense gaze. Perhaps her own thoughts have taken a similar turn?

Whatever the case may have been, the moment ends when Bill comes bustling over to take a look at her and gets the on-call make-up artist to come see what she can do about Oksana's busted lip and probable future bruising.

Needless to say, they break again, this time for a more extended period.

When they're back in the fray, make it passed the ass-grabbing bit, they then transition into the dance/fight sequence portion, whereby Jodie makes eyes on the target once more and repeatedly tries to make a break for it by sneakily ditching Sandra, only to find Sandra unwittingly counter-acting every step, every attempt to do so. (The characters are still oblivious to the others true nature, to the amusement of the audience, hopefully)

It's a tricky bit of choreography, and it took them weeks to fully perfect. Even so, Oksana's been elbowed and stepped on and just generally manhandled. To the point where she wonders if Eve is _purposely_ messing up for any opportunity to hit her, as if she can't help herself after getting that first taste. Ever the professional when the cameras are rolling, Oksana would never dream of acting out in such a manner, but Eve is beginning to test her patience. When she's nearly at the end of her rope, and on the verge of fully punching her in the face, they finally get the winning take, and break once more for a couple of hours so that they can rest.

So it is that it's nearly three hours past the point of quitting time by the time they manage to complete the club sequence. The finale of which involved the target getting stabbed to death in front of a horrified Sandra. The target in this case was Bill, or rather his character, Frank. He had a habit of making cameo appearances in his films, and since he was a massive Villanelle fan, it followed that he would want to be offed by Oksana. A dream come true. It wasn't nearly as brutal of a killing as Villanelle would have done, but Bill was ecstatic nonetheless, and came to enthusiastically shake her hand with the dagger still sticking out of his chest and the fake blood everywhere.

Oksana was amused by his boyish charm. If he were twenty years younger she'd probably seduce him and make him tell her over and over again just how amazing she is. But she didn't want to accidentally bring her previous jest to life and literally kill Eve's best friend. And well, her boss. That wouldn't be very good for the sake of the production. Konstantin would be so pissed. And he deserved a break from her antics for a little longer yet.

Still, it's been a long, trying day, and she's desperate to blow off some steam. There are many ways that she could do this, but today, or rather tonight, she feels the urge to shoot something.

Once she's out of costume and back into her casual wear, her hair blessedly out of the too tight bun, she snaps her fingers to get her PA's attention. He had been on his phone again. Seemed like that's what he was _always_ doing. She couldn't stand millennials like that.

“Yes, Miss Astankova?”

“Where's the closest shooting range?” she asks as they head towards the exit.

“Shooting range?” he repeats stupidly, falling behind. “Why do you want to know that?”

She rolls her eyes. “So I can shoot things, obviously.”

“Things,” he says dully, eyes going slightly wide. “What _kind_ of things?”

Did he think she wanted to put a cap in his ass? He wouldn't be the first person to be intimidated by her, forgetting that she was an actress and not actually a sadistically brutal killer.

“Just look it up already,” she says, fighting against her extreme irritation, of him and the day.

“Right away, Miss Astankova,” he replies, madly typing away on his phone.

“Well?” she says, once they're out the studio doors.

She can feel Eve's eyes on her as they pass by the open door to her trailer. Oksana very pointedly ignores her. She's starting to regret her impulsive actions the other night, if only because Eve is turning into a major pain in the ass. Eve got a free pass to vent today, to exact her petty revenge. But if _everyday_ on set continues to be like this, there's going to be more bloodshed, and it sure as hell won't be _hers_.

“The closest one is called the Berlin Shooting Club and it's about seven kilometres from our current position.”

She strides over to her somewhat unwieldy looking black motorcycle. A BMW S1000R. A rental. It could do 0-100km/h in 2.6 seconds. The fastest on the market (for the brand). Technically she signed the standard waiver to not do anything reckless while filming. Technically she didn't care. Oksana loved to ride motorcycles every chance she got. The faster the better. The fact that the paparazzi could never keep up with her was a definite added bonus, as it provided her with a level of anonymity without always having to get in disguise.

She picks up a hefty helmet and tosses it towards her PA. He nearly drops his phone as he fumbles to catch it. He looks at her quizzically until she says, “You're navigating.”

He gives her another look that suggests he'd rather be shot in the ass after all.

She sticks her own helmet on, leaving the visor up. “Now hop on.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit, I was getting confused with the names more than once. :p Not sure how y'all made out
> 
> I always thought you needed a license to use a shooting range but apparently not...or perhaps it's simply different for different parts of the world. Seemed like this was almost like a touristy thing designed for americans...
> 
> FYI I wrote this 'dance' scene before Sandra's dance tips vid was posted on social media lol. But also, do you think they're hinting at things to come in s2? Or am I just reading into things too much? Haha.
> 
> Casual question #2: Who here would want to see the disco scene in Take Me To The Hell Hole? She would 100% be wearing the fluffy pink dress. xD


	4. Chapter 4

In a state of trepidation, she knocks on the trailer door.

“Who is it?”

She hesitates a moment, briefly contemplates hightailing it out of there while she still has the chance. A frequent occurrence around trailers these days.

Instead of that she takes a deep breath and says, “Eve.”

There's a lengthy pause, as if Oksana herself is contemplating hightailing it out of there but realizes that there's only one exit so instead says, “Come in.”

Eve pushes into the somewhat cluttered space to find Oksana leaning back in her recessed seat, legs up on the table, tapping away at her phone. Once more Eve wonders what the true significance of that phone case is. It's been well documented in the media that Oksana likes to eat, especially when it comes to sweets, but somehow 'it reminds me of home' never quite sit well with her. Eve is pretty sure that there's more to the story. She wonders if Oksana will ever genuinely open up to her. She wonders why she should still care. After everything, Oksana's the _last_ person Eve wants to get to know better.

Oksana doesn't look up as Eve steps closer and stops just before the table.

She must be silent for too long because Oksana says, “What is it? I'm very busy.”

Eve distinctly hears the high-pitched annoying ding emanating from her phone, a recognizable sound effect from Flappy Bird (a game her nieces and nephews were once obsessed with, driving all the adults insane during family get-togethers, to the point where it had to be banned). 

As if her nerves weren't already being tested just being here.

She swallows. “I just wanted to apologize for my behaviour yesterday. No matter our personal differences,” - she supposes she means fallout - “you didn't deserve how I treated you.”

Well she _did_ , that and _so_ much more, but that was neither here nor there. Eve is only attempting to make amends for the sake of the production. A sentiment Oksana is acquainted with.

“I shouldn't have been hitting you like that. It was very unprofessional.”

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't a bit surprised that Oksana hadn't started retaliating back. The woman had punched out paparazzi for far less. Clearly she had some form of self control.

“It was,” agrees Oksana easily, eyes still glued to the screen, still tapping away. “That it?”

As usual her dismissive, flippant tone begins to irritate. And the incessant dinging isn't helping matters. She half wonders if Oksana only started playing when she realized _Eve_ had come to pay her a visit.

She should probably just leave. She's accomplished her goal, but she can't help herself when she clenches her hands subtly and says, “You could apologize to me too. For the bathroom incident.”

For a lot of things.

“Which one?” drawls Oksana unconcernedly.

And...Eve hadn't even thought of that.

Apparently Oksana had a thing for bathrooms.

“The latest one.”

“Why do you want me to apologize for _that_? Weren't you enjoying yourself?” Eve's about to lose it when Oksana adds, “Besides, we both know I wouldn't be sincere... _baby_.”

Needless to say Eve is feeling increasingly nettled - especially amidst that goddamn dinging - and the urge to lash out again, verbally or otherwise, is reaching a fever pitch. So to distract herself from either option, to avoid giving Oksana the satisfaction of making her break, or worse, _fleeing_ , she instead changes the topic to a less volatile one.

“I noticed that Sebastian is missing in action. Is he sick?”

He was usually within shouting distance of Oksana at all times while on set.  
“Who?” says Oksana distractedly, gaze still wholly on the flashing screen.

_Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding._

Did she really not know his name? Or was she just being purposefully obtuse to further annoy her?

“Your assistant.”

“Oh, that guy. I had to let him go.”

_Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding._

Eve's eye begins to twitch as she attempts to focus on anything _other_ than that infernal sound.

“Why? Seemed like he was good at his job.”

He was a very nice young man. Eager to please. Eve had liked him.

Oksana shrugs. “He wasn't all _that_ good.”

There's something about the way she says this, paired with the fact that Eve saw them ride off on a motorcycle together that makes her instantly suspicions.

“You fucked him too, didn't you?”

_ DING. DING. DING. DING. _

Blessedly, Oksana's fingers still for the first time since she entered the trailer.

She looks up to meet Eve's eyes for the first time as well. “So what if I did? What's it to you? We're _nothing_ to each other, remember?”

Eve doesn't regret saying that in the heat of the moment, she fully meant it, but the way Oksana's anger bubbles to the surface so suddenly, gives Eve pause. She knows Oksana likes playing the victim, even when she's the culprit. Even so, Eve's pretty sure this reaction is legitimate, as if a small part of her actually _does_ regret her actions, and actually _had_ wanted to give things with Eve a real go.

Or more likely she's just projecting her own feelings into the situation and seeing things she wants to see.

People who fuck their employees and then fire them aren't good people. She should be thankful she got out when she did, before Oksana _really_ tore her heart to shreds.

(it's still not in good shape but she would live)

Not for the first time she feels disgusted in Oksana's presence. “You're unbelievable. You've got a serious problem. You need help.”

“We've all got issues,” says Oksana simply and then goes back to her phone, clearly putting an end to the conversation.

Eve leaves the now stifling air of the trailer soon after, absolutely fuming once more. If she started every day on set like this, she was going to have a brain aneurysm.

At least she wouldn't have to deal with Oksana anymore.

She laughs to herself darkly, then decides to take a walk around the backlot. She needs to cool off before filming today. Thankfully it's almost chilly today, much more Spring like, as if it hadn't been over twenty-five degrees celsius yesterday.

There's a number of fake buildings here, just shells of the real things, yet detailed enough to fool even the most observant viewer. Right now she's in the entertainment district, complete with a multitude of restaurants, a couple of theatrical venues, and a comedy club.

They would be filming various scenes out here soon enough, weather permitting. There is a particularly ridiculous one that comes to mind, and though Eve is fairly good at suspension of disbelief – she _has_ to be in order to do her job effectively – it's a little too silly to handle. 

Well, at least she wasn't flying around on wires doing crazy martial arts moves.

Bill wasn't _that_ dumb to think she would agree to such a scheme.

On her second loop around, an arm slings around her shoulder. “How you holding up today?”

It takes her a second to realize it's Elena. They had become fast friends. She was grateful for that. Elena was a big part of her keeping her sanity in recent days.

“That woman is impossible,” grumbles Eve, having successfully cooled down. She's still irritable though, just not explosively so. “She wouldn't know a genuine emotion if it hit her in the face.”

“Oh I think she felt something when you gave her that epic slap,” chuckles Elena.

And...duh. She walked right into that one.

She shoots Elena a side-eyed glare. “Is everyone a jokester around here?”

Elena sobers instantly. “Sorry. Force of habit. I get funny when I'm uncomfortable.”

“I make you uncomfortable?” she says, confused. There had been no indications of this previously.

“This _situation_ makes me uncomfortable,” explains Elena. “I feel like you're gonna walk off set at any moment and scrap the project, contract be damned.”

“Bill could easily replace me.”

“You sell yourself short.” She squeezes Eve's shoulder. “And no he couldn't. You can't fake chemistry like that, Eve. You either have it or you don't. I mean, that dance number... _damn_. I was getting a bit moist myself.”

“God, I hate that word,” she mutters, blushing.

Elena continues on as if she didn't hear her. “And the way she was looking at you...like she wanted to devour you whole... _fuck_.”

She hasn't actually seen the footage of that yet. She's somewhat afraid to see what her own expression looks like. She had hoped that the dim, strobe filled lighting would cover up the worst of it. But if Elena saw all _that_ , the chances are slim that she doesn't have a similar expression. 

“It's no wonder you two shagged. I would've too.”

Was everyone gay on set? Or did Oksana just bring it out of them?

“She was acting,” she gives out automatically. Because if it's true for Oksana, than it's true for her.

Elena gives her a pointed look. “If she was acting than I'm the Queen of England.”

Eve breaks away, both from the look and her increasingly awkward embrace. She stops, turns to face Elena. “Whatever the case is, I'll never be sleeping with her again, so it doesn't matter.”

All of a sudden Elena gets awkward, as if she hadn't wanted a detailed account of their rendezvous just the other day.

She's almost apologetic when she says, “...So I guess you haven't seen the latest re-write then?”

Eve is instantly tense again, all of her efforts to relax gone in a flash.

“ _What_ _re-write_?”

 *

Eve thwaps the script onto Bill's desk, causing various trinkets from various movies to jump.

The wide variety of movie posters on the wall behind him also flutter at the sudden gust of wind. The most prominent one is Oksana's. Or rather Villanelle's. Villanelle is dressed in a colourfully patterned suit, not unlike their current film. Eve figures it's Bill's homage. Besides the less than subtle suit, there's an equally unsubtle giant axe slung over her shoulder. She's holding this with one hand, the other is casually resting in her pants pocket. Villanelle's hair is free flowing. She's slightly bloody, sweaty, and disheveled looking. She's smirking directly into the camera, a demonic glint to her gaze.

All in all, she's smoking hot. 

(Eve knows she's never looked half as good on any of _her_ posters).

There's a large, indistinct creature rising out of the water behind Villanelle. And some other stuff, but Eve's never paid much attention to the background. The forefront is too distracting. The fact that the cheeky tagline is, _Try Not To Get Wet_ , doesn't help matters.

Titled, _Sorry, Bunyip,_ it's one of Bill's all time favourite movies. It's about a mythical creature in Australia that's terrorizing the natives. At the behest of one of them - an ex, a _female_ ex - in comes Villanelle, in all of her fashionable, one-liner glory. Together with the Aborigines knowledge, her unusual array of weapons and skills, and her unparalleled thirst for blood, they take the water monster down once and for all. 

It's not at all the sort of thing that Eve generally watches, but Bill made her watch it, and she kind of hates him for it right now. There's a reason Oksana won multiple golden globes for these stupid cult films. She's absolutely electrifying in her often campy, overly brutal role.

Eve's Villanelle/Oksana obsession began soon after.

And now she's in this mess.

And Bill isn't helping matters.

So yeah, she kind of hates him right now.

He looks up from his sushi in mild surprise. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this boisterous and impromptu visit?” he says dryly, lowering his chopsticks to his plate.

“You really expect me to have _sex_ with her?” she demands.

“Well, not _really_. It's called acting you know,” says Bill in an even more British manner.

“That's not my point! Why the fuck would our characters have sex?! They hate each other!”

Bill chuckles a little. “I think maybe you're confusing make believe with reality again, Eve.”

“I don't know what you mean,” she says, guarded.

“Don't you?” he says giving her a close look.

And wtf? Did _everyone_ know her dirty little secret?

When she can't maintain the gaze anymore she glances off to the side.

Thankfully Bill takes pity on her and breaks the awkward silence. “It was always a possibility the studio would greenlight the scene. You knew that going into this. From what I can recall, you said you were fine with shooting a lesbian sex scene. Has something changed since then?”

“We haven't exactly been getting along recently,” she offers diplomatically.

“Never would have guessed,” says Bill, airily.

“Do you always have to be a smartass?” she glowers.

“Only when it suits me...Look, if you _really_ don't want to do it, we can scrap it and put it back to the way it was. But do you know how rare it is to have a tasteful lesbian sex scene in a mainstream production, Eve? It's almost unheard of. But if you don't think you can handle getting under the sheets with her, I can take away this very limited and much needed positive representation from the desperate minority. You can then disappoint the millions of queer people out there that would love you forever for doing this, as well as deprive yourself of an ardent fanbase for the rest of your days. Is that what you would like, Eve?”

He says all of this as if the rest of her role counts for nothing.

“God, you're an asshole,” is all she can think to say.

_No_ _ wonder you two get along so w _ _ell._

Bill folds his hands on the desktop. His wedding ring glints in the slightly too bright lighting of the office. Once again she feels a tug of guilt, her own ring feels like a dead weight, dragging her down more and more everyday until she has no choice but to get rid of it or drown.

“Do I need to have a sit down with you two? Would that help smooth things over?”

And risk Oksana confirming without a doubt what Bill clearly already suspects? Hell no. He'd never let her hear the end of it. On more than one occasion he had wondered aloud if Eve was in fact not as straight as she previously thought. Apparently she had a 'tell' whenever a gorgeous woman entered the room - a frequent occurrence in her line of work – but Eve had always thought he was crazy and seeing things simply because he wasn't straight himself. Now, given recent events, she had been decidedly proven wrong.

“No, that's okay. I'll deal with my issues on my own.”

And a bottle or two or ten of red wine.

“Very well. So what will it be, Eve? Are we going forward with this or not? I need to know today so that I can make the appropriate scheduling changes further down the line.”

“It's not today?” she says, mildly taken aback.

“You really thought I would drop something like _this_ in your lap the day of? You're going to need time to prepare.” He gives her a wry smile. “To practice.”

“I'm sure that won't be necessary,” she half blurts out like an idiot.

“Already an expert on lesbian sex, are we?” says Bill, a knowing twinkle in his eyes. “I'm afraid the porn isn't the best teacher.”

“Jesus, Bill,” she returns, doing her best not to flush. She may very well have watched some in the not so distant past. “It's not like we're getting _that_ graphic. I've filmed love scenes before. I know what to do.”

“Oh, so now it's a _love_ scene, is it?” he continues to tease. And goddamn it, if he was _this_ bad now, she can only imagine how much worse he'll be if he ever finds out for sure.

She points a finger at him. “One more word out of you and I quit. Is that clear?”

It's not an entirely idle threat, and Bill knows it.

He raises his thick, old man bushy eyebrows in lieu of speech as if to say, well?

“Okay, fine, _yes_ , I'll do it. But I _won't_ enjoy myself.”

He lifts his eyebrows further, to the point of dislocation, holding in laughter.

“You _know_ what I _mean_ ,” she groans, turning around quickly as her face gets hot.

Then she's out the door before she can make a bigger fool of herself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Eve lol. Everyone's taking the piss out of her.
> 
> FYI I'm not saying Oksana was fucking all of her PA's and that's why they kept changing so frequently. She's not THAT terrible. As we all know, she can be a bit of a demanding handful and they quit of their own accord. Much better.
> 
> Also, something I recently read was that Brad and Angelina actually 'fell in love' during the filming of their movie (when Brad was still with Jennifer). That's too funny. I mean, it's kind of terrible, but it's also too funny.
> 
> Casual question #3: Do you like the word 'moist'? And would you be able to 'not get wet' watching a movie like that? Lol
> 
> Also, just a friendly reminder/prod, that all comments big and small would be greatly appreciated. I don't bite. I swear. :D


	5. Chapter 5

Int. kitchen in Smiths' house – Evening

There's a simple but elegant meal of several vegan dishes laid out on the table before them.

JODIE

(she pours both Sandra and herself some wine)

How was your day, honey?

SANDRA

Oh, same old, same old.

[Various flashbacks to the previous action sequences play]

(receives her glass and takes a sip of her chardonnay)

What about you? Put out any fires?

JODIE

Just the one. It was a bit messy, but we got everyone out in the end.

[Flashback of Jodie shooting up a bunch of bad guys who had cornered her team]

SANDRA

I'm glad to hear it.

(She smiles sincerely)

So, our anniversary's coming up. Any ideas?

JODIE

Several.

(A suggestive smirk plays across her face)

SANDRA

(chuckles)

Keep it in your pants.

(She pauses a beat)

For now.

(She waits another beat)

I was thinking more along the lines of _public_ activities.

Jodie grins salaciously, quirking an eyebrow.

JODIE

Oh, they could _still_ be public.

SANDRA

(surprised)

Since when are you an exhibitionist?

JODIE

There's plenty of things you don't know about me.

Sandra puts down her wine and leans forward on the table.

SANDRA

I'm intrigued. Do tell.

Jodie pauses a moment.

Not for the first time she feels awful about the MASSIVE secret she's been keeping.

JODIE

Perhaps one day I'll let you in on all of my secrets. But for now...

(Jodie entwines their fingers, the food all but forgotten)

I'd very much like to take my wife to bed.

Sandra brings her other hand to the side of Jodie's face and pats it.

SANDRA

And I'd very much like for you to eat this dinner that I spent a considerable amount on.

(She winks)

Dessert can wait.

 

It went on for a while longer, getting more and more cringey.

“Seriously? This dialogue is terrible. Who wrote this crap?” wonders Oksana in disgust as she reviews the first scene for tomorrow while lounging in bed. She can't believe she's going to have to actually say these things out loud, that they're going to be recorded, that they'll likely be available in perpetuity long after she's dead and gone.

Overall, she had liked the concept. But some of the dialogue was downright vomit inducing. She supposes it was par for the course where rom-coms were concerned. Or film in general. It wasn't like every single Villanelle line had been gold. Though, pretty close.

The only consolation is that her lines aren't as terrible as Eve's.

_Dessert can wait?_

She is honestly quite offended by those three words.

Oksana tosses the script aside, rubs at her tired eyes and considers turning in early. After her encounter with Eve in her trailer, Konstantin's well worn lecture on treating her assistants with respect (if only because he was tired of finding replacements for them), and the general long day of filming, she is spent.

She removes her makeup, brushes her teeth, changes into her comfortable pyjamas, and is on the verge of falling asleep, when her phone lights up, a familiar ringtone playing, that of the French national anthem.

Instantly, Oksana rouses to a state of alertness, and she quickly reaches for the phone on the nightstand, accepting the FaceTime summons.

She can't help the genuine smile that cracks her face wide open when she sees her.

“Hey,” she says, as she flops onto her side, props the phone up in the space beside her and imagines Anna with her right now, in bed.

“Hello, darling,” says Anna, also with a fond smile in place. She frowns. “I hope I didn't wake you. I thought-”

“You didn't,” interjects Oksana right away. She hates it when Anna is even the slightest bit put out. She hates it even more when she is the cause. “I was just going over the script.”

“What's that one called again?”

“Mrs. and Mrs. Smith,” says Oksana with an eye roll. “It's garbage. A flaming pile of turds.”

Anna chuckles and Oksana yearns for her all the more. “It can't be _that_ bad or you wouldn't have agreed to do it.”

_More like I didn't have much choice in the matter._

“No, it is shit, Anna. Really. Don't go see it when it comes out.” She pouts. “I'm begging you.”

If a small part of her is afraid of Anna seeing the way she looks at Eve in it, of their impending love scene, she'd be the last one to admit it.

“I can't make any promises,” teases Anna. “You know how much I love to see your finished projects. Makes me so proud to see how far you've come. Even if the film _is_ garbage I'm sure your performance will be golden. You were always my star pupil.”

Oksana preens at the compliments ever present on the tip of Anna's tongue.

She sours fast. “I only speak stupid English in this one. Yet another reason why it sucks. What kind of spy only knows one language? A terrible one, that's what.” She sighs, runs a hand through her hair. “Sometimes I miss Villanelle so much it physically hurts.”

_Jus_ _t like when I'm away from y_ _ou._

“Villanelle was a one of a kind character,” agrees Anna seriously. “I'm not sure you'll _ever_ play someone as iconic as her again.”

“Thanks,” says Oksana sarcastically, but without much bite. “Guess my career is over now. Might as well quit and start agreeing to all of those Villanelle cons they keep pestering me about. I'll take pictures with dressed up nerds and charge a hundred dollars a pop.”

Anna laughs. “I'd pay to see that.”

Oksana shoots her a dirty look.

Anna sobers. “No, but seriously, Oksana, I'm _sure_ you'll get another role that you actually like. You just need to learn to control that nasty temper of yours a bit better.” She smiles mischievously. “Interesting choice of underwear by the way.”

At first she thinks Anna's talking about right now, but Oksana is pretty sure her body isn't in frame. Then she understands her meaning.

Oksana groans, both in embarrassment and unmitigated arousal that Anna saw her like that. In real life. And not the movies. Because of the stupid tabloids.

“Nice touch with the chair. Really classy.”

“Please don't give me another lecture,” she moans, face in hand. She really is quite embarrassed. Only Anna could bring that out in her. And only when it was just the two of them.

“I'm sure Konstantin already has. And I'm also sure that it fell on deaf ears. As usual.”

She makes a noncommittal sound.

“Are you going to at least tell me what prompted that...spectacle?”

The last thing she wants is for Anna to ever find out what a terrible person she is. And she would _definitely_ think Oksana was terrible if she told her the truth. Still, she didn't like lying to her.

So she settles for a half truth. “I was drinking,” she shrugs.

“At six in the morning?” says Anna, skeptically.

“It's as good a time as any.” To prevent further questioning about the suspect timing she adds, “Is this why you called? You're worried about me?”

“I'm always worried about you, my dear,” says Anna with a soft smile. “I may not be your mother, but I certainly worry for your well-being all the same.”

Oksana cringes internally. She hates it when Anna refers to herself in the same breath as her mother...if only because she frequently had not so appropriate fantasies about her old teacher turned friend. No matter how much she wanted for something to happen between them, it never had. She had been too afraid of crossing that line, of being rejected, and ruining the one true constant in her life.

“Well, you don't need to worry about me. I'm fine.”

“You're a three time golden globe winner and _that's_ the most convincing line you can give me? I'm fine. _Really_?”

Oksana huffs. “What do you want me to say? That I'm secretly miserable? That I only put on all of the pomp and circumstance because I'm trying to cover up just how miserable I really am? That I only have shallow relationships that never go beyond the physical because I'm scared of emotional intimacy? Of getting my heartbroken?”

They both freeze after this little outburst. Oksana was clearly over tired and had not meant to say all of that. It hit a little too close to home for comfort. Before Anna can speak she rolls her eyes and says, “Come _on_ , Anna, that is so lame. And cliched. Not everyone wants the same things out of life. Just because I don't want to fall in love and start a family doesn't mean I'm broken. I'm just different. That's all.”

_There, totally fixed it._

With any luck they could now move onto another topic. She _really_ didn't like discussing her love life with Anna.

Unfortunately, astute Anna latches onto the particular sore point she _absolutely_ does not want to get into with Anna, _ever_.

“You've never been in love before?” says Anna quietly. “What about Nadia?”

She _had_ been in love. Still was. But she'd never say so. Especially not while Anna remained married to her dumb husband. On the rare occasion she gets drunk and wallows in self pity, she goes on their _shared_ Facebook account (how incredibly lame) and scrolls through the many, many photos of the smiling couple in various places in and around Paris, as well as other more exotic locales.

She can still vividly remember the day she came across Anna in a bikini...and Oksana had nearly expired on the spot. Anna was by no means a supermodel in that department, she was actually a bit dumpy, like a not terribly sexy librarian....but Oksana can't see any defects when she looks at Anna. She's as they say, the apple of her eye.

Anna's still looking at her expectantly and Oksana knows she has to say something or it'll be even _more_ awkward.

She opts for rudeness. Anna hates rudeness above all else. With any luck it will finally turn Anna off the conversation.

“Yeah, right, Anna. Like I could ever be in love with _her_. She was like a stupid puppy that followed me around wherever I went, begging for attention every second of the day. It was pathetic.”

She actually didn't mind Nadia all that much. Occasionally they even caught up. They weren't friends exactly, but she still generally knew what was going on in her life. Like, she had recently gotten engaged. To a man. By the sounds of it, he was a complete idiot. They were perfect for one another.

“Don't be so rude,” scolds Anna, somewhat affronted. Anna had taught both of them after all. She was well acquainted with the other woman. “That girl adored you.”

“Whatever,” scoffs Oksana, rolling her eyes again. “Are we done here? It's late and I have to be up at five.”

“We're done...for now. But I want to revisit this topic ne-”

Oksana clicks off prematurely. She's never cut Anna off like that before. She doesn't feel good about it. But she wanted to make a point. Hopefully Anna will leave well enough alone.

But now nothings happening, and she's not tired anymore.

She's itching to do _something_. She's just not sure what.

A sudden urge takes hold. She hasn't done it in awhile. She had been a good girl.

She _knows_ she shouldn't do it. She _knows_ it's wrong. But she had started forming the habit when she was fourteen, and now, fourteen years later, she finds she can't stop once the thought is in her head.

Oksana closes her eyes and slides her hand into her underwear.

She's not wet, not yet. But all she has to do is imagine that Anna is touching her instead, and she will be. At least, that's what usually happens.

For some reason she's struggling to get properly aroused. She's never had this much difficulty before. No matter how much she concentrates on Anna pleasuring her, fingers or tongue, nothing happens.

After fruitlessly touching herself for several minutes, she finally gives up and goes to bed in a bewildered and foul mood.

*

She's minding her own business lounging on a sun chair outside of her trailer, and having a hearty lunch of honeyed sausages and creamy coleslaw when Elena walks passed and mutters, “Wanker.”

Oksana could simply continue to ignore her like she's been ignoring her for the last three days, but this time she finds herself snapping back, “ _What was that_?”

Elena stops, looks at her and innocently says, “What was what?”

“Say it to my face. I dare you,” she says in a dangerous and foreboding tone. She was sick and tired of these childish insults being daily whispered to her. She wants to put an end to them once and for all by intimidating the hell out of Elena.

Oksana takes off her sunglasses to make sure the threat is on full display.

Without hesitation, Elena walks back until she's right in front of her, looks her dead in the eyes and very clearly says, “I said you were a wanker, you twat.”

She bristles at the added insult. She's not British so it doesn't hold as much sway for her, but it's still considerably rude. Her delicious lunch is all but forgotten when she gets up and stands mere inches from Elena's face. To her utter irritation, Elena hasn't shown the slightest bit of fear.

“You've got some nerve-

She's even more furious when Elena cuts her off and says, “She really liked you. And you fucked it up because you're... _you_. But you don't even _care_ , do you? It's just another Wednesday to you.”

For a split second her brain freezes on the first part of that comment. Then she holds herself as tall as possible to defend her honour.

“Eve knew what she was getting herself into. It's not _my_ fault that she's hurt.”

Elena gives her a disgusted look. “Typical. You won't even take _any_ of the blame, even though it's _all_ your fault. Eve did nothing wrong, except have the bad sense to fall for you, and you can't even find it in yourself to apologize properly.”

Again, Oksana's brain freezes on the 'fall for you' part, but barely long enough to register beyond the increasing levels of rage building.

“She did nothing wrong?” smirks Oksana, albeit in a forced way. “Miss High and Mighty? Or should I say, _Mrs._ High and Mighty? Don't lecture me about cheating when your own friend is no better.”

Elena looks like she wants to smack her over the head right about now and Oksana takes some savage pleasure in getting under her skin too.

It seems she's celebrated prematurely though when Elena retaliates with, “Eve is and will always be a thousand times better than you. You'll always just be a dick. You don't deserve to be loved. By _anyone_.”

After her conversation with Anna and several bad nights sleep, she's on the razor's edge.

“Get the fuck away from me,” she barks through gritted teeth, hands balled into fists.

“Hit a nerve, did I?” smirks Elena, apparently unperturbed by her change in demeanour. “Good.”

“You're a nobody,” she lashes out somewhat desperately, so unlike herself. “I can have you replaced in an instant.”

Elena smiles wider, raises an eyebrow. “Don't make me laugh. You haven't been hot shit in years. And those Villanelle films you're so proud about? They're shit. Why you won awards for them, _I'll_ never know.”

The blinding rage that took hold with the stupid ice cream brat is threatening to burst forth once more.

Her knuckles are deathly white with the extreme force she's exerting on her palms. “Elena, I'm warning you-”

“What are you going to do? Hit me?” challenges Elena, taking a step closer until they're practically nose to nose.

Some part of her brain knows that Elena is purposefully egging her on. She _wants_ Oksana to lose it and openly hit her. She wants Oksana to get kicked off the film. She wants to protect her friends well-being above all else.

“If it will make you shut up.”

She's practically vibrating with fury as she forces this out.

She's on the verge of doing it when a hazy figure appears in her peripheral and sternly says, “ _Oksana_.”

She recognizes the voice instantly.

It's stupid Konstantin.

He hadn't found a PA replacement yet, and because of her recent acting out, he was keeping a closer eye on her than usual. Annoyingly, he was here everyday now. Something he didn't seem to mind as he seemed to have a thing for Carolyn for some unknown reason.

“Close your eyes and count to ten.”

“That stupid exercise doesn't work!” she nearly shrieks.

“Just do it,” says Konstantin, voice brooking no argument.

He must give Elena one of his patented no nonsense looks, because she leaves at this point.

Konstantin takes her place and stands directly before Oksana, places his hands on her shoulders.

“Come on now, close your eyes.”

Begrudgingly, she does as he says.

“Now breathe. That's it. Nice and slow.

She's not sure how long it takes to calm down, but eventually she does.

Konstantin's hands are still on her shoulders. He gives her a vaguely fed up look. “I thought you said you fixed things?”

“I did,” she answers unflinchingly, out of habit. “We're better than ever.”

It's a lot harder to lie when someone is so close and staring right in your eyes, but she manages anyway and she's vaguely proud of herself.

Of course, Konstantin isn't falling for her bullshit for one second.

“Doesn't sound like it. It sounds to me like you went and antagonized her further. What was the _one_ thing I told you _not_ to do?”

Oksana shrugs away from him, puts some distance between them. “She doesn't need to _like_ me to do her job,” she huffs, crossing her arms like a petulant child.

' _She really liked you'_ suddenly echoes through her head with more clarity.

“No, but it would certainly make things easier. For the both of you.”

“What do you want me to do?” she snaps without much energy. “I _tried_ apologizing and she didn't buy it.”

“Of course not,” chuckles Konstantin. “A talented actress like Eve? Of course she can tell you aren't sincere.”

_Well then, what did you_ _ **expect**_ _was going to happen when I tried to fix things_?

“So what do you expect me to do?” she grunts instead.

“Actually _mean_ it.”

“But I don't,” she says in confusion.

Either she was being slow today or Konstantin was talking in riddles.

He sizes her up for a few moments as if debating whether or not to say this next bit. That in and of itself makes her anxious to hear his next words.

“I think some part of you does. I think some part of you _always_ does. I think you had a hard childhood, never really having any friends, always moving around, and I think you never learned any real stability. Except perhaps with Anna.”

She just looks at him. She doesn't know how to respond to that. She knows that Konstantin knows about her Anna fixation. He's known it since she was a teenager. This isn't breaking news.

“You need to let go of the past a bit, Oksana. Try to move forward with your life. Anna would want that for you. She wouldn't want you to be pining over her still.”

“I'm not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I'm not.”

“I've seen the sketches.”

She throws a dagger filled look his way. “ _Thank_ s for invading my privacy,” she says as sarcastically as possible. “I _really_ appreciate a strange man going through my panties. Did you sniff them too, Konstantin? Or just pocket a few?”

He ignores her defense mechanism and says, “I only did it because I care about you.” He smiles almost fondly at her. “You can be an intolerable brat, but you can also be a very good girl. Other people want to care about you _too_ , Oksana. You just need to _let_ them.”

Konstantin's looking at her so sincerely, that she feels a lump in her throat and her eyes well up. She hasn't felt like this in ages.

She hates it.

Before she can sarcastically retaliate some more, he adds, “I think you did it on purpose.”

And now she's completely lost again.

“What are you talking about?”

“I think you went out of your way to push Eve away.”

The second he says it, she knows deep down that it's true.

“You're crazy,” she says, and begins to walk away.

Konstantin trails just behind her and continues unabated, in subdued tones, “I think you were scared of having something real...something that _wasn't_ with Anna, and you self-sabotaged the relationship. Maybe not consciously...but I think I am right. I saw the way your face lit up whenever Eve texted you back. You liked her. For _her_. And not just her body. And that terrified you.”

“I don't need to listen to this!” she snarls, whirling on him, heart pounding. “If you say _one_ more word I'll fire you!”

She really can't handle listening to any more of this nonsense...because part of her knows that it isn't...and she can't deal with that right now. She can't take responsibility for callously destroying the one good thing that had been going for her. She won't do it. She just won't.

Konstantin backs off, gives her a sad, kind of pitying look and she hates him for it. She wants to smash his stupid face in right now, but there are too many witnesses. This entire exchange has been far too public as it is. It'll be a wonder if no one else overheard any part of their conversation.

She marches back over to her trailer, turns around to face him again and screams, “Don't _ever_ bring this up again!”

Then she slams the door behind her, rages for some minutes, just tossing everything around, making a goddawful racket.

Once she's tired herself out a bit, she flops face down onto her bed and screams some more into her pillow.

When the last of her rage finally subsides, she feels the hot tears coming fast and unstoppable.

_What the fuck did I do_ _?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So turns out Oksana's maybe not quite as heartless as previously thought. ;D Just a massive asshole/drama queen...
> 
> I do like taking the piss out of myself. Typical Canadian I guess. :p  
> And yes I know scripts would be more involved than that. Maybe if it were actually a good scene I'd try to do it proper justice lol
> 
> I was very tempted to do a dream sequence but I always do a dream sequence so I managed to stop myself for once.
> 
> Casual Question #4: Would you masturbate over Anna? :p


	6. Chapter 6

_Sorry, Bunyip_ is playing for the umpteenth time when Elena uses her spare keycard to push into Eve's hotel room.

Eve is currently curled up on her bed, in a blanket burrito, crying at all of the funniest lines in the film. She's an utter disaster, her hairs a fright, there's snot everywhere, and her mascara is running. There's an empty bottle of red wine lying on the ground. If it wasn't for housekeeping it would likely be piled up to the ceiling by now.

Elena shakes her head in disgust and pity and annoyance. It's been two weeks now and Eve is still pining over that dickhead. Previously, she would have gotten on the bed and joined Eve, comforted her. But she's tired of that shit.

She goes over to the television and turns it off. She would've used the remote but she has no idea where it is. Likely it's lost in the ball of blankets and snot somewhere.

Eve looks up at her bleary-eyed, like she's just realized she's there.

“Okay, that's it. We're going out,” says Elena in a no nonsense manner, hands on hips.

Eve opens her mouth and Elena continues, “I don't want to hear it. You're coming out with me, and that's final.” She tries to unravel Eve from the blankets but finds she can't budge her much. “I'll drag you out like this if you don't help me out.”

Finally Eve makes a bit of an effort, and together they manage to release her from her cottony restraints. Elena then marches her into the bathroom to get her cleaned up and ready for a night on the town. Even if it was only for an hour, it would be worth it. Anything to take Eve's mind off of the asshole for a bit. Or _her_ mind for that matter.

After Eve's showered, Elena hands her a green dress from Eve's wardrobe. It's somewhat low-cut and definitely sexy, and if there's one thing Eve needs to feel right now, it's that. Just because the world's biggest prick couldn't appreciate what she'd had, doesn't mean no one else would.

When she's all done up, they look in the mirror together. Elena stands just behind her, holds her shoulders. “See? You're _gorgeous_. I better not hear one word edgewise tonight.”

Eve seems a bit afraid of her sharp look and her dangerous tone. Then she nods. “Where are we going?”

Elena grins. “Oh, you'll see.”

 

*

“You made me get dressed up for _this_?” complains Eve as they wait just outside of the escape room. It's a space themed one, called rather unimaginatively, Space Escape, and there's a life sized cardboard cutout of Alexanader Gerst, the most recent German astronaut according to the piece of paper taped to his chest.

“And how does this qualify as going out? We're literally going to be trapped in this room for hours on end...”

“It's only one hour.”

“...with complete strangers participating in an overdone story narrative with no doubt equally uninspired puzzles-”

Right then an attendant walks by and shoots her an affronted look.

“I mean...I'm sure it's lovely!” scrambles Eve. She glances to the cardboard cutout and then back to the attendant. “It looks like you put a lot of thought into this place. I'll probably never leave!” she jokes.

The attendant continues to glare over her shoulder but doesn't respond and continues on her way.

Eve sighs and looks back to Elena who seems on the verge of laughing.

She runs her hands through her damp hair, fingers snagging briefly. “God, just once I'd like not to put my foot in my mouth.”

“Look, I get that it's not what you were expecting, but could you _please_ just try to keep an open mind,” says Elena. “I've only heard good things about this place. And anyway, only _some_ of them will be strangers. I invited Kenny and Carolyn to tag along too.”

Eve gives her a look. “Is there something going on there that I'm not aware of? With Kenny I mean.” And she's not entirely sure why she feels compelled to make the distinction. After all, Carolyn was Kenny's mother. It's not like Elena would have a thing for both of them at the same time. That would just be straight up weird.

Out of the two of them, Eve is far and away the more messed up.

“Pssh. He wishes. Kenny's a fine bloke. I just don't fancy him that way.” She gives Eve a teasing look. “Besides, I think there's been more than enough 'office' romances already.”

And...that was fair.

Her face must fall because Elena winces a little. “Sorry.”

Kenny and his mom show up shortly after. They make small talk while they wait for the last two people to show. Less than three minutes before their designated time slot, they arrive.

It's two dudebros.

Two dudebros in tank tops with huge muscles.

The worst kind.

They're walking like ducks because their pants are hanging so low.

“Man, I love space and shit!” says one of them way too loud. He stands beside the cardboard cutout and gets his much more subdued friend to take a picture while he gives a thumbs up. “This is gonna be a blast!” he says afterwards and then laughs at his own joke at a similar level of decibels to that of a rocket launch.

Eve can already feel the headache beginning to form.

She shares a look with Elena, who just shrugs, as if to say, t _ ough shit, you're doing this anyway _ .

Regardless of her apprehension, they all politely exchange pleasantries. The same attendant that Eve had unintentionally dissed explains the rules of the place, and then she lets them into the room.

The room itself at least is better put together than the exterior. There's no cardboard in sight. When the door shuts behind them, it really does feel like they're on the international space station, what with the boxy, cluttered walls full of wires and electronic devices, and the general tunnel like nature. It's definitely wider than the ISS would be though, which was kind of necessary given there's six of them and they don't have zero gravity to float on top of one another. 

It seems like it actually continues into another room.

Jesus, just how big was this place?

Okay, Eve is kind of impressed now.

Their mission is to apparently escape the ISS before the deadly biological contagion kills them all. And they need to work their way through the various substations to get to the escape pods.

She doesn't know how the hell they're going to accomplish this in just one hour.

Maybe if she wasn't still a bit tipsy and was a massive nerd then- 

“Okay, I think I've solved the first clue!” exclaims Kenny with more enthusiasm than she's ever seen outside of his role as Sean.

Perhaps they had a shot after all?

Surprisingly, the quieter dudebro isn't a total moron and he actually manages to solve a couple of puzzles himself...despite the constant unhelpful input from the loud one.

Eve ends up making some contributions, but in general she has no idea what's going on. The fact that the quieter dudebro keeps checking her out is also distracting.

Everyone (minus her) is really into it by the time they're in the fourth and final room. There's not a lot of time left before they run out of their untainted air supply and all die horrible deaths.

The loud dudebro is carrying on like he actually thinks they're going to kick the bucket if they don't escape in time.

It's only after they're all stumped and there's a momentary lull that the quiet dudebro finally approaches her...with his loud friend in tow.

She thinks the loud ones name is Milo. “My friend wants to know if you're the woman from Wild Anatomy?”

The quiet one, Max, doesn't have the greatest English. Milo's on the other hand is flawless, albeit in its limited capacity.

Eve's not sure she wants to give an affirmative. It's nice going somewhere – even this place – and not get recognized and have to deal with fans. Most of the time they were lovely, she's just not in the mood tonight, especially when there's literally no escape.

(for another six minutes or so)

Unfortunately, Elena is not on the same wavelength as her. “Yes. Yes, she is.”

Max looks at her with a great big adoring smile. It was cute.

And okay, maybe it's not so bad to be admired right now.

He says something else to Milo in his native Germanic tongue. She's not sure which one.

Milo translates, “He says that you helped him get through a very difficult time in his life. After his mother died. And he'll be forever grateful.”

That is not at all what she was expecting. She was positive he was about to hit on her via his friend. Guess you really couldn't judge a book by its cover.

But apparently she spoke too soon.

Max isn't done yet.

“He says you are even more beautiful in person. The most beautiful woman he's ever seen.”

Max continues to speak, more urgently, and Milo stills a moment and seems embarrassed for his friend. They seem to get into a bit of a disagreement.

“What is it?” she asks, wary and curious at the same time.

Milo gives her an apologetic look. Eve didn't think he had it in him. This must be really bad then.

“He says that he would write you a love letter everyday if you were his woman.” Max nudges him to continue. “He says that you are more radiant than a thousand suns and that he would travel to the ends of the universe just to see you smile.” Milo makes a face as Max keeps speaking. “And...there's a bunch of other shit you _really_ don't want to hear.”

He gives Max the thumbs up.

Max beams at him and then snags Eve's hand and kisses it.

His lips linger for too long and everyone in the room is embarrassed now.

Except for Elena.

Damn her. She's enjoying herself far too much.

“Um, tell him that's sweet,” she says, pulling her hand away, “but that I'm mar-”

Elena nudges her side.

Thankfully she's saved further embarrassment because Carolyn says, “As... _touching_ as all of this is, we're kind of on the clock here people.”

And so they shift their focus back to solving the final puzzle.

They manage to escape with literal seconds to spare, like it's scripted that way.

Max gives her a longing look as they part for the evening.

“Well, he was...nice,” laughs Elena once they're in the backseat of their ride.

By way of a silent nod, Eve greets her designated chauffeur for the duration of the filming.

Josef nods back and pulls out of the parking lot.

“Didn't that make you feel good?” prods Elena.

“To be hit on by a child with bulging muscles and obvious mommy issues? Yeah, wonderful,” she says sarcastically.

“Be _fair_ , Eve, he was at _least_ nineteen. Had facial hair and everything,” teases Elena. “And he was _hot_. Don't tell me you didn't think he was hot?”

“Yes, Elena, he was hot,” she says rolling her eyes. “You happy now?”

“Exceedingly,” responds Elena smugly.

She squints at Elena. “You didn't happen to... _set_ that up did you?”

Elena laughs. “How could I have set that up, Eve? This was a spur of the moment thing.”

“Was it?” she says suspiciously.

The fact that Elena made her get dolled up and then they just _happened_ to run into this guy...it was a bit hard to swallow.

“Wow, you're paranoid,” laughs Elena again. “Trust me, Eve, if I had set that up, he definitely would have been a bit more shall we say... _sophisticated_.”

Eve's still not sure she buys it. But whatever, it was over and done with.

“Don't get any ideas. I _am_ still married you know.” She pauses, glances forwards to see Josef looking away. Before she can even ask, the partition starts to go up. Once they have more privacy she says, “And I think maybe I _do_ want to try that couples counseling after all.”

“Niko will be thrilled,” says Elena, tersely.

“Why are you being like that?” she frowns. “I thought you'd be happy.”

Elena's exasperated. “Eve, there was a _reason_ you separated from him in the first place. Or have you forgotten?”

For a panicked second she thinks Elena's about to bring up Oksana but then, “You told me that you hadn't been happy with him for quite some time. That there was no spark. And that you hadn't had sex in ages.”

“Which is exactly what the counseling would be for.”

“You asked for a divorce and he wouldn't grant it,” points out Elena darkly. “Threatened to lay out all of your dirty laundry if you even brought it up again. Does that _really_ sound like someone you want to have another go with?”

“I guess not,” she relents with a deep sigh, rubbing at her temples.

She's just so tired of this shit. Everyone she fancies turns out to be an asshole.

Elena tries to lighten the mood again, but Eve is unresponsive, so they sit in silence the rest of the way back to the hotel. It's awkward in the elevator ride up to their rooms. Even so, Elena decides to see her off to her room, her own lowly self was some floors below.

She feels the usual impending dread as she passes by Oksana's door, as if she expects it to open right as she passes and end up face to face with yet another of Oksana's conquests.

Elena's just finished giving her a hug when Oksana's door actually _does_ open. Like Eve willed it tonight. Or like someone was writing a contrived plot because they couldn't come up with a better scenario.

It's not Oksana who leaves the room, but another woman. An older woman. An attractive older woman. She's smartly dressed in a beige power suit and she's got a large purse hanging in the crook of her arm. She exudes quiet confidence and sex appeal even from this distance. Eve's doing her best to get a good look at her face, but she can't because the woman's shiny shoulder length hair (with a silver streak) is partially obscuring her profile.

Oksana herself appears in the doorway. Eve's almost surprised that she isn't half naked. Oksana says something to the woman and the woman laughs. Once the woman heads to the elevator, Oksana turns to face them.

They stare at one another for a time. Oksana's expression is unreadable, but she does still look between the two of them in apparent interest...after all, Eve's dressed up and so is Elena and it's after ten on a Friday night.

All of a sudden Elena says loudly, “Well, that was a lovely time, Eve! I really enjoyed our date!”

Eve's gaze snaps back to Elena's. What the hell was she doing?

“We should _definitely_ do it again!”

Elena takes Eve in her arms and mutters ' _just go with it_ ', and then she plants a big old wet one on her lips. Eve's too shocked to respond at first, but then she closes her eyes and lets Elena do her thing.

A door slams and then they break apart.

“Well, um...thanks for that,” says Eve, flustered. She doesn't know where to look.

Don't get her wrong, Elena was a good kisser, but Eve just didn't like her that way.

She unfortunately only had a thing for the fucked up ones.

“Don't mention it,” chuckles Elena.

“But um... _why_ did you do that?”

“Isn't it obvious, Eve?” says Elena with a steadfast gaze. “I totally have the hots for you.”

Eve's eyes go wide at that. “Look, Elena...I really appreciate our friendship but-”

Elena laughs. “I'm joking, Eve. I only did it because I can't stand her smug ass,” she scowls, towards the now closed door. “She's always flaunting herself like she's God's gift to the world. When she's just a bitch.” Elena puts a gentle hand on Eve's shoulder, her expression likewise soft. “I don't want you wallowing over her again. You deserve so much better. I wish you could see that.”

“Are you _sure_ you don't have the hots for me?” she awkwardly jokes.

Because it kind of sounds like it.

Elena rolls her eyes. “I was quite serious about the whole office romance thing. Besides,” she says with a wink, “you couldn't handle this.”

That wasn't exactly a no. Eve decides not to point this out and they say their final goodnights.

Before Eve goes into her room, she glances over to Oksana's door.

She wonders if the door slamming was related to her kissing Elena. Or if that's just how Oksana generally closes doors. She wonders if Oksana was possibly a bit jealous. She wonders if Oksana's even capable of that emotion. Or _any_ besides anger. She wonders if she should care. Either way it doesn't change anything. Oksana's still an asshole cheat who clearly never intends to settle down, and it's time Eve came to terms with that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI that escape 'room' is fake...just in case you couldn't tell lol
> 
> The ride was not a limo. It was any other 'fancy' car you can think of that wouldn't stand out quite so much.
> 
> I'm gonna be really sad if Elena's not even in the second season at all. :/ But anyway...
> 
> WHO ELSE IS FREAKING OUT THAT IT'S ALMOST HERE?????


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm assuming everyone knows the show was renewed by now...but if not...go ahead and pop some champagne (hopefully not into your eye) lol
> 
> Oh and one of you lovely people told me that Mr. and Mrs. Smith literally aired right before the premiere. XD

“Well, that was an... _interesting_ show,” says Sandra.

Jodie barks out in laughter. “That's _one_ way of putting it.”

They're hand in hand, fingers intertwined, strolling down the fake street in the entertainment district. A number of other people and couples alike have also just left the theatre. 

Eve's wearing a strapless royal blue evening dress, a princess length red-ruby necklace, and her hair is up in a high bun. Oksana looks very dapper in a cherry red three piece suit and a bejeweled chignon. Eve doesn't envy her though, it's humid as hell out this afternoon. 

If you looked closely enough you could see the beads of perspiration along her hairline. The on call make-up artist has been having to 'fix' their faces in-between every take, which is simply drawing the process out all the more. Eve is beyond grateful that her dress isn't made with incredibly heavy material as is often the case with evening wear, and that her hair is also up. She would be dying right about now under those voluminous curls.

“I wonder who came up with such a strange idea?” ponders Sandra aloud.

The show in question had been about a somewhat dowdy MI6 agent who was obsessed with a stylish female assassin, to the point where she upended her entire life chasing after her. 

“Someone completely off their rocker, that's who,” answers Jodie. “No sane person could come up with something like _that_.”

“You know, she kind of reminded me of you,” says Sandra thoughtfully, side-eying Jodie in complete seriousness.

“Who? The assassin?” Jodie laughs again when Sandra nods. “Yeah, right, Sandra. Like _I_ could ever kill anyone.”

There's a brief lull and Jodie turns to face Sandra near the end of the block, or rather, where the set ends.

“Sorry that the play was so bad,” she says. “Sean recommended it.” She makes a face. “Should have known better than to trust _his_ tastes.”

Sandra gives Jodie a coy look. “It wasn't _all_ bad. After all, I got to spend the evening with _you_. And I don't know if you know this,” she whispers conspiratorially, while walking her fingers up Jodie's chest, “but you're _kind_ of my favourite person.”

Eve almost feels physically sick having to say these words out loud, let alone in a cutesy way.

Jodie wraps Sandra in her arms and the additional body heat is horrid. Eve can only imagine how bad it is for Oksana. She almost laughs in delight at the thought. 

“Only kind of?”

“Mmm. Top ten for sure.”

“Cuuut!”

Immediately they break apart.

“What was wrong with _that_ one?” uncharacteristically complains Oksana. (on set anyway). She tugs at the collar of her moist shirt and grimaces. “I thought it was pretty good.”

Oksana's latest PA, Paul, jumps over to hit her with the high powered handheld fan. Oksana sighs in contentment. Eve's not bothering with that as it makes the humidity even worse once the artificial air stops being applied. 

She's suffering through this scene in more ways than one.

Bill walks over from his directors chair and comes to stand beside them. “You were great,” he says to her. Unsurprisingly. Eve internally rolls her eyes as Oksana puffs herself up at the compliment. They were never in short supply where her acting ability was concerned and it irritated Eve to no end. _She_ was the senior actress here, had won many awards over the years... _she_ should be the one getting a pat on the back every other take. Not _her_.

Bill was her best friend for crying out loud!

She holds in the sigh threatening to burst forth as Bill turns to her next. He takes her hand and practically begs, “Eve, can you _please_ try to act like you're not in the embrace of a cactus? Just _once_?” He grabs Oksana by the shoulders and places her right in front of Eve. “You're supposed to be head-over-heels with this one, and you're acting like you'd rather be _anywhere_ else!”

Maybe it's a trick of the light, but she _swears_ that Oksana gives her a conciliatory look, like she understands Eve's real position and feels bad for her.

But that would be ridiculous wouldn't it?

More than likely she's simply commiserating over the less than ideal temperature.

“Just try to relax,” says Bill. “Imagine you're in the arctic.” He snaps his fingers. “And imagine you're in Niko's arms if that will help.”

Eve freezes at the suggestion, and she's mildly surprised to find the same holds true for Oksana.

Why should Oksana care if her husband is mentioned?

That reminds her, she should _really_ fill Bill in on the situation there, if only to avoid further offhand comments like this. Currently only Elena knew that she was separated from her husband, and that was only because she had been more or less forced to confess it in an effort to not seem _as_ terrible as she actually was for cheating on him. Then again, if Niko would've just granted her the divorce when she first asked for it, instead of insisting on couples therapy, she wouldn't have cheated on him at all. She supposes if she _really_ wants that divorce pronto, she should just tell him about Oksana. Of course then he would retaliate by leaking this 'shocking' secret to the media - as well as all of her _other_ dirty laundry, as Elena put it - and it would be a shitstorm nightmare.

“I'll...keep that in mind,” she says, forcing a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

“See that you do,” says Bill, with a satisfied nod, as if he just solved the problem, instead of making it ten times worse.

They restart from the edge of the block, rather than from the top. A rarity for Bill. He liked to get scenes in one take if at all possible. A habit born of his early theatrical days. Perhaps the inclement weather was getting to him too?

“I don't know if you know this, but you're _kind_ of my favourite person.”

“Only kind of?”

Jodie takes Sandra in her arms and Eve tries to imagine herself as a jellyfish, boneless, brainless, and completely at ease.

“Mmm. Top ten for sure.”

Apparently this tactic works because they keep going.

Jodie gives her a faux affronted look, then smiles and goes to kiss her.

Except right when she's about to make contact, a man leaps out of the alleyway they are standing beside and points a gun at them.

“Give me your money and jewelry now!” he orders.

They jump apart in apparent fright.

Sandra's instinct is to distract and take him down.

But she can't.

She's with Jodie right now and she can't blow her cover.

Bank employees don't typically know how to effortlessly disarm robbers.

Years of training has her realizing that his weapon isn't even loaded. This more than anything else is incredibly frustrating.

She looks over at Jodie who is looking back at her with a similar expression. A trapped and somewhat irritated expression. She doesn't seem to be particularly afraid of the predicament they've found themselves in. Sandra chalks it up to her wife dealing with highly stressful situations on the regular. Or maybe she's in complete shock?

“Are you _deaf_?! I said give me your money _now_!”

Maybe she can talk him down, instead?

“You don't have to do this,” she says, calmly. “Let's talk about this.”

“Bitch, I will shoot you in the fucking head if you-”

“Cuuut! Language!”

“Sorry!” says Diego, scrunching his face up.

“Don't be sorry, just don't do it again! We don't want an R rating because of a single slip of the tongue!”

Oksana snickers under her breath beside her.

They reset the scene and try again. Eve's just glad she's not the only fuck up today. She's kind of amazed and a bit jealous of how rarely Oksana screws up, and when she does, it's usually just a minor discrepancy with the dialogue, and often she's simply trying to make it better. There's a reason virtually no one in the industry complains about Oksana's work ethic, it's all the _other_ stuff they have a problem with.

“You don't have to do this,” she says, hands out complacently. “Let's talk about this.”

“Bitch, I will shoot you in the head if you don't give me your damn money right now!” he screams.

Eve tries not to flinch at the bit of saliva that comes flying out of his mouth and nearly hits her in the face. Sometimes actors got a little _too_ into their roles. She barely knew the man but she already disliked him about as much as her character did.

“I think we should just do as he says,” says Jodie, eyes locked on the gunman. Now a faint quaver can be heard, as if the fear is finally starting to sink in.

Sandra really doesn't want to hand over her purse, and the concealed weapons within, but there was nothing for it. She really didn't have much choice.

“Yeah, listen to your friend! She's the smart one!”

Even in this 'dire' situation, Sandra is pissed off. She can't help herself when she corrects him.

“We're married,” she says.

He looks between them in confusion. “Married?” he parrots back.

“As in wife and wife,” she elaborates, holding up her hand.

He stupidly stares at her engagement and wedding rings.

“It's our anniversary,” she adds when he still doesn't seem to be getting it. “And you're kind of ruining it.”

The brief stupor he is in at the sudden change of pace vanishes. “I don't give a _fuck_ if I'm-”

“Cuuut!”

“Fucking dammit!” yells Diego in frustration. He starts hitting himself in the head with the fake gun. “Stupid! Stupid!”

“Jesus Christ!” says Bill. “Calm down, Diego! Take five!”

Now they're left to their own devices for the next five minutes. Eve hasn't bothered speaking to Oksana outside of filming. There seems little point. It's been nearly a month since their 'talk' in the trailer.

So she's a little startled when Oksana is the one to break the ice.

“What a prick.”

Eve looks over to find Oksana watching Diego's retreat.

She thinks it's a pretty rich comment coming from the queen of the pricks, but decides not to engage. For all she knows, Oksana isn't even talking _to_ her.

Oksana glances back at Eve. “Has he been spitting all over your face?”

Well, there went _that_ theory.

“Not exactly. Almost. Is it that obvious?”

Oksana nods. “I could see it flying around.” She makes a face. “Very disgusting.” She gives Eve an appraising look. “You've done well not to react to it.”

Eve isn't expecting to receive a compliment from her, however small. She doesn't know how to respond other than, “Thanks.”

There's a lull and Eve figures that's it, so she turns to leave, but then, “Can we talk?”

Oksana sounds almost...nervous?

Eve stills, doesn't dare turn back around. For some reason her heart starts pumping faster.

Talk? What does she mean by that?

“Eve?”

“I'm not sure what there's left to say. You've made it pretty obvious how you feel.”

Or _don't_ feel.

“I don't think I have.”

There's a clear tremble to her voice.

Now Eve's heart _really_ starts hammering.

Finally she turns back around to find Oksana watching her steadfastly. Seemingly earnestly. And _definitely_ nervously.

Needless to say, Eve is shocked. But even more so after Oksana's next words.

“I've been a massive prick myself. I realize that now.”

_Only now_? she wants to retort sarcastically but can't because she's so taken aback.

Oksana chuckles a bit. Not in that annoyingly familiar way, but rather from obvious nerves. “Yes, I know. I can be a slow learner. I'm rather stubborn. And arrogant. Don't like admitting when I'm wrong. It's a terrible habit that I've been working on in therapy.”

“You've been going to therapy? _You_?” she says, and feels like she's having an out of body experience. The heat must have made her delirious. Surely this interaction isn't really happening? She's dreaming? Tripped and hit her head? In an alternate universe?

Oksana just nods. “It's been very good for me I think. I don't know if you noticed or not, Eve, but I have a _tiny_ bit of an anger management issue.”

And this time she says it with some of her usual humour which just grates on Eve's nerves.

“You mean like when you almost _punched_ Elena out for no good reason?” she says harshly, the familiar tension building. When she heard about that altercation, she nearly blew a gasket. Nearly went right up to Oksana and slapped her silly. “And the _only_ reason you didn't is because Konstantin intervened?”

Oksana sighs. “I don't want to fight. I just want to talk. Can we do that sometime?” She pauses for a moment, swallows. “ _Outside_ of work?”

And Oksana sounds so sincere and nervous again that Eve feels the tension quickly dissipating.

“I don't know,” she eventually says. “I need to think about it.”

Oksana nods in acceptance. “Well, let me know if you feel up to it.”

She gives Eve a small, hopeful smile and then leaves her be.

Eve watches her go and wonders what the hell just happened. It's like _Invasion of the Body Snatchers_. Who was this nice, courteous woman? As far as Eve can tell, Oksana is being sincere for once, more like how she _used_ to be when they first met and got to know each other a bit. Eve had been immediately taken with her charming, larger than life personality, as had everyone else in the room. They had swapped numbers before leaving the table read, and subsequently spent the next two months texting each other almost daily.

When they next met, it was to learn the choreography for the dance/fight scene. Suddenly all of their friendly flirtation had taken on a completely different meaning. And when Oksana asked her out that first time, she hadn't even hesitated. Despite still being married.

To deal with that, she had pretended like it was simply a friend outing. Like she didn't know exactly what it really was. Like she hadn't been hoping for this exact outcome.

Surprisingly, despite all of Oksana's increasingly blatant flirting, she hadn't tried anything with Eve that first night. Or the second.

It was only after a particularly hot and heavy dance session, and the unbearably strained elevator ride back up to their rooms, that they had finally succumbed to temptation.

And now here she was staring down the barrel of the gun once more. Did she dare dive in?

She doesn't have long to contemplate this quandary before the break is over and they're back at it again.

“It's our anniversary,” she says. “And you're kind of ruining it.”

“I don't give a _shit_ if I'm ruining it! Just give me your _goddamn_ valuables before I shoot the living hell out of you! I _won't_ ask again!”

“Sandra, I _really_ think we should just hand our stuff over. There's no point risking our lives.”

Except, she _knows_ they're in no danger whatsoever. And handing over her stuff goes against every fiber of her being. Giving this lowlife her money is one thing. But her wedding rings? On her anniversary? Unacceptable.

She's about to take him down, to expose her true identity, when Jodie slips off her ring, sticks it into her purse and hands it over. The gunman snatches it away. Then he looks to her expectantly.

Jodie peers sideways at Sandra, gives her an imploring look. “It's okay. We'll get new ones. Please just do this. I don't want to lose you.”

Eve has a momentary flashback to the bathroom incident and Oksana's failed attempt to 'fix' things.

As a consequence, she nearly misses her cue, but then she nods, takes off her rings and the expensive anniversary present around her neck, and hands it all over.

The second he has both purses in hand, he takes off running down the street - from the direction they had previously traveled, as the set didn't extend the other way - until he's nearly out of sight.

“Good!” calls Bill. “Very good! Let's do it again!”

After a few more takes, they break once more so they can get the next bit of the scene ready.

Eve gets much needed relief inside the air conditioned studio. She probably would have passed out if she didn't. She's chugging some water when she notices that Oksana is watching her from a distance. When she looks over, Oksana quickly glances away.

A month ago she never would have cared about being caught out staring.

Something seems to have changed with her. Eve just isn't sure if it is really what it appears to be. Or if it is simply an act.

Belatedly, she realizes that some sweat had been trickling down into her cleavage. Eve almost rolls her eyes at the predictability of it, but then she witnesses Oksana removing her suit jacket and vest and sees her dark shirt clinging to her toned body, absolutely drenched in sweat, and she chokes on the rest of her water.

Apparently, she does this quite loudly because several heads turn her way, including of course, Oksana's. She looks at Eve for a second in confusion and then smiles knowingly.

At least Oksana doesn't start flexing not so subtly. Or taking her shirt off too.

Eve doesn't give her a chance, she hightails it out of there. After all, the point of being indoors was to _cool down_.

All too soon break time is over, and she's hit with a wall of heat when they head back out. With the exception of the club scene, she's pretty sure she's never hated doing a scene more than this one.

They take their mark and pretend to watch as the mugger sprints away again. In reality, he isn't even part of the scene. At the end of the street, in the intersection is a dummy.

A crew member further down the street holds up a red marker to let them know it's almost time to react.

When the 'mugger' is almost out of sight, a firetruck suddenly plows into him.

An actual firetruck. Not just a prop.

Even though she's expecting it, it still makes her jump in surprise, which is exactly what they're going for. The dummy goes sailing through the air and lands with a sickening crunch. Or so she imagines will be added during sound editing.

Sandra can't believe what she's just witnessed.

“Well, that was lucky,” says Jodie nonchalantly, grim satisfaction written on her face.

“Lucky!” exclaims Sandra, wide-eyed.

They break again briefly to replace the dummy with a life-like mangled corpse of Diego's unnamed character.

The firetruck driver and his crew jump out to inspect the damage.

Sandra and Jodie run over to the carnage.

One of the crew is checking his pulse, but it's obvious the mugger died on impact.

Sean looks over at their approach, at Jodie, his firefighting comrade. “Jodie, what are _you_ doing here? I thought you were celebrating your anniversary?”

“We were.” Jodie gestures to the corpse and callously says, “Until this asshole interrupted. He just mugged us.”

“And then _I_ hit him? Wow, what a crazy coincidence.”

Sandra looks between them in disbelief.

“Coincidence? _Coincidence_??”

“What else _could_ it be?” asks Jodie politely.

“I...I don't know.”

“Anyway,” says Sean, getting up, “I'm going to have to call this in. You don't need to be here for that. Go and enjoy the rest of your evening. You deserve it.”

Jodie and Sandra collect their scattered belongings. Sandra manages to stash her gun back in her purse before Jodie notices its existence. This was precisely why you always strapped that sort of thing to your outer thigh. A rookie mistake on her part.

She's about to put her rings back on when Jodie stops her and silently asks for them. Jodie slides them back on Sandra's finger, maintaining eye contact all the while. It's far too intimate for Eve's liking and she dreads having to do this part again. Sandra returns the gesture, they smile at each other, with the dead guy and hullabaloo in the background, lace their (sweaty) fingers again and walk away.

A number of takes of that, another break to cool off, and then they start filming again on a different fake street and Eve feels like crying. This is a nightmare.

“How come he didn't have the siren on?” she asks.

“Excuse me?”

“Sean. If he was in a such a rush to get to a fire, why wasn't the siren going?”

“It's been faulty lately,” gives out Jodie after a brief pause. “Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.”

“That doesn't seem very safe. As we just witnessed.”

“You're right. It's not. I'll be sure to get that fixed as soon as possible.” She turns to Sandra again, takes her in her arms and says, “Now, where were we, Mrs. Smith?”

The cameras get in real close to their faces, something Eve hates. Especially considering what's about to happen.

Jodie pulls her into a kiss.

It's the first time they've had to do this since starting filming. She forgot how much she enjoyed kissing Oksana. She's perhaps getting a bit carried away as a result. They both are. There's definitely some tongue being slipped.

Okay, maybe a _lot_ of tongue.

“Cuuut! I appreciate the enthusiasm ladies, but let's keep this PG, okay? You can go nuts for the sex scene, but for now, let's keep this classy.”

They pull apart, embarrassed. Well, _she's_ embarrassed at forgetting herself. Oksana just seems dazed and confused at her response.

A crew member pops in with the slate and claps it down. “Scene fourteen, take twenty-two.”

“Now, where were we, Mrs. Smith?”

The second time she accidentally smiles into the kiss, which causes Oksana to smile, their teeth bump, and the kiss is ruined yet again.

“Take twenty-three.”

When they kiss this time, it's much slower, much more sensual, much more Hollywood approved. But they apparently do it for far too long before pulling apart to say their last lines.

“Take twenty-four.”

Near the end of this kiss, Oksana mutters, “Brustwarze.”

Which was the German word for nipple that some local _Freikörperkultur_ enthusiasts had been chanting over and over again the other day so loudly that they could hear on set. It also literally translates to 'breast wart'. 

So of course Eve laughs.

“Take twenty-five.”

This time Oksana immediately dips her and plants a scorching kiss on her lips before the scene is reset.

After that, it becomes obvious to Eve that Oksana is purposefully messing up in some way or other to keep this going for as long as possible. She's purposefully messing up just so that she can kiss Eve.

Even though it's hot as Hades – and getting hotter- Eve somehow can't bring herself to be mad about this. 

So it is that it takes twelve attempts to get it just right.

By the end of their unnecessarily long make-out session, she's feeling considerably less apprehensive about speaking with Oksana.

Before she has a chance to overthink it too much, she goes to her trailer, gets her phone and clicks on her texts from Oksana. That stops her dead in her tracks. The last ones are dated about a month ago, or the same night Oksana cheated on her and made many attempts to reach Eve, seemingly completely in the dark as to what was wrong.

“What am I doing?” she murmurs to herself, tossing the phone back onto the bed, thrusting her hands in her sweaty hair.

The heat really _has_ made her delirious.

This woman can't be trusted.

For all Eve knows, this is just another mind game the heartless woman is playing.

But she's _so_ curious as to what Oksana has to say.

And her lips are still tingling from kissing her.

And Eve is a moron.

So she sends the text.

' _Okay. Let's talk_.'

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My explanation for this scene to make it less silly...While Sandra was distracting the gunman, Jodie sent out an SOS on her phone...or some other spy device...so then her team could track it...so then they could ram right into the mugger with perfect timing lol...my variation of the random bus hitting someone.
> 
> Also, and this is totally random and has nothing to do with this show/fandom...but they released the first ever image of a black hole today...which is apparently larger than our entire solar system. And that's just...insane. But tumblr's take...it's the eye of Sauron! xD


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To sum up this chapter...poor baby

After her conversations with Anna and Konstantin alike, she did something she didn't normally do. She allowed herself to reflect on her past, specifically on her failings as a person. She hadn't exactly been lying to Anna when she said she was miserable. She wasn't unhappy per say, but more and more, she had been feeling like something was missing in her life. And it went beyond the usual aching hole she felt whenever she thought of Anna (which was often).

Anna would never be hers. She just had to face facts. Unless she flew to Paris and literally offed her husband like Villanelle would do - if he were actually a monster in disguise - Anna would never even look at her twice. She thinks maybe Anna _had_ felt something for her once upon a time, before she got married. But that was over a decade ago now, and it was hard to say for sure. She had never kept a diary, though perhaps she should have. Her therapist at the time had tried to get her in the habit, back after her father died and she was newly orphaned...but she could never bring herself to put pen to paper.

Fame found her shortly after Anna's marriage with her breakout role as Villanelle at the tender age of nineteen. Anna had been delighted in her sudden success, but even back then Oksana could never fully appreciate her appreciation. Not with her husband in the picture. It was like there was an invisible wall between them now.

As a walking cliché, she had let the fame immediately go to her head, and inflate her already massive ego. She felt untouchable, like she could do anything, and no one would ever dare complain, let alone press charges. That was the start of her downfall.

Everyone wanted a piece of her. She simply had to walk in a room and she'd come out with nearly every number in the joint. It was too easy. And after losing Anna to her dumb husband, she figured she might as well indulge...and indulge...and never stop.

Maybe if she fucked enough people, she'd forget about her?

And so she had continued fucking and fucking and fucking most days out of every year, but it never helped. None of them were the woman she loved. None of them could ever compare.

She never even made the slightest attempt to take things beyond the physical. She didn't want to. Everyone was so dumb. No one really understood her.

Eve was the first person she had actually had to woo in a long time.

But more than that, she was the first person Oksana had actually made an effort with.

She wouldn't have bothered texting back and forth for months simply on the off chance they _might_ hook up. She had bothered texting back and forth because she had actually _wanted_ to. She enjoyed talking to Eve. She was funny and smart and she actually seemed to get her twisted sense of humour.

Oksana didn't like the fact that Eve was married and occasionally brought up her dumb husband. It reminded her too much of Anna. She wondered if she had a type; older, morally unavailable women with nice full bodied hair. She hoped she wasn't simply projecting her feelings for Anna onto Eve because they shared some similarities.

For once in her life, she wanted to have something completely separate from Anna, something that was all her own. She didn't want Anna to have any more power over this particular relationship. But she wasn't sure she could ever fully detach her heart from the one and stick it to the other, or if she was inextricably linked to Anna forever whether she wanted to be or not...

So when Eve sends her the text, she's nearly over the moon. She had hardly dared to hope that Eve would be willing to give her a second chance. She wasn't sure that _she_ would have if she were in Eve's position, and you know, related to people in a normal, healthy way.

She takes a second to breathe and think about how best to reply. 'When would be a good time for you?'

She wants Eve to have complete control over the situation. She owes her that much.

The answer comes quickly.

'How about tonight? Around nine? Unless of course, you're too tired...'

Already Oksana's pulse quickens. She really hadn't expected it to be so soon.

'Nine is great,' she texts back in reassurance. 'Where do you want to do this?'

'How about my hotel room? We could order room service. I'm starving.'

Oksana's eyes widen at the suggestion as much as the speed with which it is sent. 

There was zero hesitation on Eve's part.

'But don't get any funny ideas.'

Oksana smirks to herself. She can picture Eve's expression exactly.

'Wouldn't dream of it. Like I said before, I only want to talk. The rest is up to you.'

There's a brief spell of silence and then she sees that Eve is texting once more. 'I'll hold you to that. See you soon.'

She checks the time to see that there's only about a half an hour until nine. If she wants to freshen up, to shower – but _not_ because she expects anything will happen, just because she wants to feel clean after sweating for hours on end – then she needs to hurry.

To save time, Oksana stays in costume. Minus the suit jacket and vest. They're a bit too sweaty and constricting, and she needs full maneuverability if she's going to bike to the hotel as fast as possible.

She strides up to her motorcycle – a yellow Ducati Panigale R this time – pops on the helmet, and takes off, leaving a skid mark behind.

Despite never actually _needing_ to drive herself anywhere, Oksana almost always does. She takes a keen sense of pleasure from the activity. It's a chance to be completely by herself, with no one, and nothing to answer for.

Not even the red lights.

As always, she effortlessly weaves in and out of the relatively sparse traffic, only slowing down when absolutely necessary. The wind chill is a blessing to her scorched skin, and she's relishing in this drive all the more, really putting the pedal to the metal to get the greatest possible effect.

She's more than half way to the hotel when the siren goes off.

_Fuck._

Part of her wants to simply keep going, try to lose him like she would the paparazzi. But instead, she keeps her cool and pulls over.

She's been in this situation countless times before in countless cities. She knows exactly what to expect. And more importantly, what to _say_ to get out of the ticket.

The Toyota Prius with the blue paneling and the words Polizei emblazoned on the front and sides glides to a stop a short distance behind her. Since it's nighttime, the lights continue to flash, albeit silently.

A not so attractive male cop in his forties gets out and leisurely makes his way to her side.

She makes sure to take her helmet off precisely when he gets there.

Then she swishes her (normally) luscious blonde locks around like she's in a shampoo commercial. Perhaps the effect is somewhat lessened due to all of the sweat.

Perhaps that's why he seems completely unfazed by this action.

Which was a bad sign.

Often the cop – regardless of gender - would stop dead in their tracks.

“Do you know how fast you were traveling, ma'am?” he asks in German.

Oksana tries not to be too pissed at being called ma'am.

She smiles sweetly and also in German, says, “I'm guessing faster than I should have been.”

“You were going a hundred and fourty-three in a fifty kilometre per hour zone,” he says, unamused. “That's almost _triple_ the speed limit,” he adds, as if she is a moron and can't do basic math.

“Oh my,” she says in a shocked manner. “How unbelievably reckless of me. I'll be sure to watch my speed better in future.”

He squints at her. “License and registration.”

Normally she'd try harder to avoid handing it over, but she wants this over and done with as fast as possible. She already regrets stopping in the first place. 

Oksana goes to get her license, but then realizes that she doesn't have it.

Double fuck.

It's back in her trailer. She completely forgot to pick up her wallet in her haste to leave.

“Is there a problem?”

“I don't seem to have my license on me, officer,” she offers sheepishly.

He takes out his notepad and pen. “Then I'll need your name, date of birth and current address so that I can verify your identity.”

When she tells him her name, the pen stops moving. And she thinks he's _finally_ realized who she is.

He looks up at her and says, “Is that Oksana with an X or a K?”

For fucks sake. At the rate this is going, she'll be lucky just to get to the hotel in time, let alone take a lovely cold shower.

“A K,” she says, still forcing herself to be pleasant.

She gives him the rest of the info and he goes back to his patrol car to check the system. It seems to be taking forever. The clock keeps ticking down and she can't stand this stupidity (or humidity) any longer.

“Fuck it,” she mutters to herself and takes off.

There's a slight delay before the sirens blare once more.

It doesn't take long before he's some distance behind her, and the gap is only getting bigger with each passing second.

She's fully confident that she's left him in the dust, when she rounds the bend and stomps on the brakes, nearly flinging herself forward.

There's construction here that wasn't here this morning. Big inactive trucks and other monstrous vehicles are completely blocking the way in _both_ directions. She can't even get on the sidewalk. If she had been paying more attention to what was in _front_ of her instead of checking her mirrors, she probably would have noticed the detour signs earlier and been able to take a different route.

She's so close to the hotel now, it's killing her.

Oksana's on the verge of ditching the bike and going the rest of the way on foot when the cop car pulls up right beside her, further caging her in on all sides.

He gets out much faster this time, gun drawn.

“Step away from the vehicle, hands on your head.”

_Talk about an overreaction._

Even though there's a real, loaded gun pointed at her, not the fake one in the mugging scene, she barely reacts. She supposes she should be more unsettled than she actually is. She's never actually _had_ a real gun pointed at her before in her life. She thinks she should probably bring this lack of fear and survival instinct up with her therapist during their next appointment.

“Is that really necessary, officer?” she pleads, taking off her helmet. “I _really_ have to be somewhere right now. Isn't there some _other_ arrangement we could come to?”

She gives him her patented come hither look, bites down on her lip. No one can resist it.

“I'm gay,” he says, stone faced.

Except for that.

“So I'm afraid you're out of luck. Now step away from the vehicle and put your hands on your head.”

She's not sure but she thinks he's a bit pissed about her lack of expected response to his over the top intimidation tactics.

“You _must_ know who I am,” she practically whines in desperation, switching to English and her natural accent.

She can't disappoint Eve again. Not now. She doesn't know if she'd ever get a second, _second_ chance.

“Of course I know who you are, Miss Astankova,” he replies easily, also switching to English.

“Then why-”

“Did I give you such a hard time? Just because you're famous doesn't mean you're above the law. Something my colleagues seem to have forgotten. You were driving recklessly, and attempted evasion, and as such you should be held accountable. Now for the last time,” he says, readjusting the gun to chest height, “step away from the vehicle and put your hands on your head.”

Despite the fact that his body cam has been conveniently turned off, Oksana's almost positive that he won't shoot her. Even if she took off running right now. He might be a power tripping dickhead, but he doesn't seem to be stupid. His career, hell, his _life_ would be over if he shot her in the back.

“You should probably just let me go right now.” She gestures to the gun, rotating her wrist around a few times. “This whole thing is going to get you into a _lot_ of trouble. And I'd just _hate_ to ruin your career, Officer Sauer.”

He bristles at the threat. Rather than succumb to her helpful suggestion, he swiftly holsters the gun, moves in the remaining feet and yanks her off the motorcycle, causing it to fall over with a loud crash.

She reacts reflexively and elbows him in the stomach.

He grunts but doesn't let go.

“Assaulting an officer _too_ ,” he says, slamming her into the side of the patrol car, front first. “You don't know when to quit, do you, Miss Astankova?”

She feels the cuffs cinch into place. Then he starts patting her down, and for a moment she thinks he's feeling her up, but then he just holds her phone in front of her face and says, “You won't be needing this where you're going.”

Then he drops the phone on the ground and stomps on it with the heel of his heavy duty police boots.

“You fucking bastard!” she snarls.

He ignores her and roughly shoves her in the back seat, face first. It's a bit of a struggle to right herself as he regains the drivers seat.

He catches her eye in the rear view mirror and smiles.

Oksana hasn't hated anyone this much in a very long time. Even the ice cream girl and her money grabbing parents are preferable to him. If she were able to right now, she would kill him without hesitation...and he _knows_ it. So he just smiles all the more.

The evil cop decides to take the slowest possible route back to the precinct. And all Oksana can do is watch the clock continue to count down. It's five to nine by the time they pull up to the station. There's virtually no way she's making her 'date' with Eve.

And if officer crabby pants continues to have his way, she'll _never_ leave.

He pushes her into the station proudly, like she's an elusive fish that he's finally managed to catch, and as such should be given an award.

Various heads, from cops and offenders alike, turn as they pass by, some in indifference, some in confusion, and still others with starry-eyed wonder.

“This one needs to be processed.”

The other guy looks up from his desk and does the familiar double take. He points rudely in her face. “Isn't that-”

“Yeah, it is.” The evil cop glares at his comrade. “I think you two are acquainted.”

He's right. They _have_ met previously. He was the last cop to pull her over. Their interaction had been considerably more pleasant...and far shorter. He had given her a slap on the wrist in exchange for an autograph...which is generally how these things went.

The nice cop swallows at the allegation but otherwise doesn't respond.

“What are the charges?” he asks reluctantly.

“Reckless driving, driving without a license, evasion, and assault of an officer,” rattles off the evil cop.

The nice cops eyes widen at the list, especially at the last two charges. “I see. Well, I'll get on that right away.”

The evil cop gives her a side eyed look. “There's no rush, Engel. Take all night if you need to.”

Then blessedly, he leaves. If he hadn't, she surely would have felt compelled to headbutt him as hard as possible while surrounded by a room full of cops.

Officer Engel gives her an apologetic look once they're alone. “Sorry, Miss Astankova. Sauer can be a-”

“Massive arsehole?” she finishes for him.

He chuckles awkwardly at that, gestures for her to take a seat.

“Um...so I'm afraid that I really _will_ have to write you up this time, Miss Astankova.” She must glare at him because he quails and says, “You have to understand, I really don't _want_ to but...”

“But it's your job,” she sighs. “Yes, I know. Well get on with it then.”

She can't believe she fucked up such a simple thing. All she had to do was go from point A to point B. But she couldn't even do _that_ right. And now Eve is going to be wondering where she is, and if she's been stood up. And she's going to start questioning Oksana's intentions and probably come to the conclusion once again that she's far too unreliable to be in a relationship with. And then Eve's going to go back to ignoring her and refusing to give her the time of day. And then they'll finish filming and go their separate ways and she'll never get to tell Eve how she really feels.

But fuck that noise.

She doesn't do defeatist.

She's an Astankova.

Her father would be so ashamed if she gave up so easily.

“I want my phone call,” she demands.

The nice cop just looks at her, then looks towards the evil cop, who is watching from across the room.

“I don't know...”

“It's my right. Either you let me call someone or I'll tell _everyone_ how you let me off the hook. I'll make a goddamn public announcement about how Officer Engel of precinct 63 is perfectly fine with letting pretty women go-”

“Okay, okay,” he says, undoing her handcuffs. “Yes, have your phone call.” 

He gestures to the police landline and she picks up the receiver.

She debates for a moment who she should call. If she calls Eve, she can explain the situation and she'll hopefully understand. If she calls Konstantin, he can get her out of this mess. He can nip this in the bud before the press gets a hold of her arrest.

It was the classic dilemma of head vs heart.

For once she decides to follow her heart.

There is only one problem. She doesn't actually _remember_ Eve's number. Most of their conversations have been via text messaging. She's basically never called. Oksana _needs_ her own phone. It's as simple as that. But the evil cop destroyed it, as if he anticipated her doing this.

“Is there a problem?” says Officer Sauer again, startling her out of her thoughts.

He's not smiling this time, but she can just _tell_ he's really proud of himself. The bastard. It's not a good thing that she's unrestrained. But strangling him with the phone cord won't help matters. Technically her therapy has taught her better coping mechanisms than simply counting to ten. Unfortunately, she hasn't actually managed to successfully employ any of them so far, so that was neither here nor there.

“No problem at all, officer,” she says, smiling in a horribly fake, rather creepy way.

She has no choice but to call Konstantin. He's her only hope now. She dials the number. But it just keeps ringing. And ringing. And ringing. She figures she's fresh out of luck when a woman's voice answers the phone. 

Oksana's not positive but she thinks it's fucking Carolyn.

“Where's Konstantin?” she barks without preamble.

“Oksana? Why are you calling from-”

“That's _none_ of your business. I need to speak with Konstantin.”

“I'm afraid he's not available at the moment.” She chuckles a bit and adds, “I'm afraid I've rather worn him out.”

Ugh. What a disgusting mental picture. She never wants to picture Konstantin doing... _that_. And definitely not with Carolyn. 

“Well, wake him up then.”

“But he's so peaceful looking. I'd really hate to-”

“And _I'd_ really hate to go fuck your precious virgin boy.”

There's absolute silence on either end of the line as her outburst registers both wherever Carolyn is and the entire bullpen.

“Jesus Christ, Oksana,” says Carolyn, aghast. “Konstantin was right. You really _don't_ have _any_ filter.”

“Just put him on the phone already.”

After a considerable delay, Carolyn says, “All right. I'll go get him.”

The moment Konstantin comes on the line, it goes dead.

What the fuck?

She looks up to find Officer Sauer pressing the dial tone button. This time he's smiling. “Well, looks like your get out of jail free card just expired.”

“You can't do this!” she yells at him, hopping to her feet, getting into his face. “I have rights!”

She looks to Officer Engel who just shrinks under her furious gaze, as if he's powerless to do anything.

“Sit yourself down,” says Sauer, completely unintimidated. “Or I'll _make_ you sit down.” 

“I'd like to see you try,” she says, absolutely livid. There's no therapy techniques on earth that can calm her down now.

She's a second away from throttling him when another voice says, “What's going on here?”

Somewhere in the back of her rage fueled mind she registers that it's a female voice. 

Neither of them take their eyes off one another.

“I said, what's going on here?”

Finally, the evil cop backs off and looks over to the woman in question.

“Everything's under control, ma'am,” he says.

“That's not what I asked, Officer Sauer.”

“Miss Astankova here is being uncooperative. I was simply-”

“Did you say, Astankova?”

Oksana turns around to find who she can only assume is the captain of the precinct standing there. The middle aged woman blinks in surprise to find a movie star right before her very eyes. She gestures for them to continue this in her office, away from prying eyes and ears. As if it matters at this point.

The captain closes the door and turns around to face them. 

“Why have you arrested her?”

“Reckless driving and evasion. _And_ she assaulted me.”

The captain looks back to Oksana. “Why did you assault him?”

To create a self imposed straight jacket, Oksana sticks both hands into her stinky armpits.

“I didn't. But I _would_ have if I _could_ have after he _smashed_ my phone.”

“She's lying,” says Sauer easily. “It was broken when she resisted arrest.”

He's fast on his feet and he doesn't seem to be particularly worried about this predicament, about being caught out.

Maybe he's cut from the same cloth as her?

“ _He's_ lying. He felt me up, even though he _claims_ to be gay, and then he crushed it with his boot and keeps refusing to let me have my phone call.” She waits a beat before laying down her trump card. “ _And_ he pointed a gun at me.”

The captain looks somewhat startled by this accusation.

“I did no such thing,” lies the evil cop, ice water in his veins.

Up till now she had been avoiding looking at Sauer in an effort to keep her head. She turns to him. “If that's true then you'll be _more_ than happy to show the captain here your body cam footage.” She snaps her fingers. “Oh that's _right_ , you _can't_ do that because it was _conveniently_ turned _off_.”

More stunned silence and then, “Is this true, Officer Sauer, is there no footage of this altercation?”

“My camera has been malfunctioning lately,” he offers somewhat begrudgingly. “I've been meaning to get it fixed.”

Oksana rolls her eyes. “Well done, officer,” she says with a slow clap. “Highly believable.”

Sauer disregards her and says, “Surely you can't take the word of a known liar over one of your own officers? The claims she has made are ridiculous. I would _never_ abuse my power in such a way.”

“My God, you should go into acting, Officer Sauer,” she says as sarcastically as possible. “You're a natural.” 

“Enough! I don't know which of you to believe here, but I don't want the headache this arrest is likely to cause. Let her go.”

“You can't be serious,” says Sauer in slight anger. “She broke the law. She assaulted me. She-”

“Has a retainer of lawyers that could make our lives a living hell.” She looks back to Oksana. “You're free to go.” Oksana half turns to leave. “However, if you so much as stick another _toe_ out of line, Miss Astankova, I can't promise _any_ leniency.” And then softer, “ _Please_ don't make me arrest you. My daughter would never let me hear the end of it.”

Oksana gives the evil cop the biggest shit eating grin she's ever given anyone and heads out.

 

*

It's over an hour past the point she was supposed to meet Eve by the time she knocks on the door. She's even more disheveled and sweaty and smelly now than when she left work. She refuses to waste anymore time though, so Eve will just need to sit on the other side of the room.

Now that all of the excitement is over, her nerves have returned. If she fucks up any further, Eve will surely never give her the time of day. The fact that she's had to knock more than once isn't helping to alleviate any of her anxiety.

Finally the door opens.

Eve takes one look at her and says, “What took you so long?”

There's something a bit off about her, but Oksana can't place it.

“Sorry, I got held up by this ass-”

Before she can finish the sentence, Eve lunges at her and pulls her into a desperate kiss.

Oksana gets caught up in it for a moment before she gets what's off.

She can taste the booze on her breath.

“Eve, how much have you drunk?” she just manages to get out between assaults.

“Only two glasses,” she murmurs. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DRAMA. HOW LONG TILL EVE SAYS THOSE WORDS ON THE SHOW??
> 
> Thumbs up for Carolyn getting some and thumbs down for the evil cop. Amirite?  
> FYI, Sauer means angry/sour in German and Engel means Angel. :p  
> Anyway, it was interesting writing their dynamic. Technically Oksana is in the wrong too...but seems like I don't care and root for her. Just like in the show lol  
> The real casualty was the poor Ducati. RIP.  
> Also, it's kind of hilarious that this chapter just happened to involve O attempting to call E but not managing to. Crazy coincidence. No, but for real, this was written like a week and a half ago. It's also funny that V didn't memorize that number after getting it from Anna. I'm frankly surprised she didn't get it tattooed. :p
> 
> Y'all should watch the Fiona Shaw interview on build series. The interviewer was great and Fiona's such a good speaker. I feel like I got a lot of insights into Carolyn...not that it will do me much good in this fic lol
> 
> I'm so terrible. I still haven't seen GoT. KE is the priority as far as I'm concerned. Amirite? XD
> 
> And guess it's official. Elena's no longer in the show. LAME


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I really struggled with this one guys. Hope it's not total shite. 
> 
> Anyway, Happy Passover to anyone else who celebrates it too. And I think there's some other holiday event going on around this time of year as well. So...cheers.

“Shit, this wasn't supposed to happen,” they both say almost simultaneously, faces in hands.

They glance at one another through fingertips, a hint of humour leaking forth before they sober once more.

Oksana turns on her side to face Eve, head propped slightly on arm. “I really _did_ just come here to talk.” She runs a finger back and forth along her forearm, and Eve's cooling skin reacts, albeit in a subdued way. “I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself.”

Eve mirrors her position, pulls the sheet up so that it's covering all distraction. She does the same for Oksana, which elicits a slight smirk. “I didn't exactly give you a chance. And no kidding, that must have been the _fastest_ orgasm I've ever witnessed. I barely even touched you.”

The endearing smirk returns in full force. Oksana starts playing with her fingers now, like she feels compelled to keep touching her. “Is that a humble brag, Eve?”

It takes her a second to get Oksana's meaning and then she flounders for a moment. “No. I mean, technically _yes_ , I guess, but no.” She shakes off her stupidity. “I just meant, what was up with that?”

Oksana shrugs as she traces patterns in the palm of Eve's hand. “It's been awhile.”

“What do you mean it's been awhile?”

She seems almost reluctant to get into this further. “Not since Simon.”

Eve blinks at that. “You mean, Sebastian.”

Something appears to click in Oksana's mind. “Right.”

“So you're telling me that you haven't had sex in nearly a month?” she asks slowly, waiting for her brain to catch up with this revelation.

Eve was all but convinced that Oksana was a nymphomaniac. But a true sex addict wouldn't have been able to go nearly that long without getting off at all. Unless of course she was just pleasuring herself? But Oksana didn't seem the type to do that very often, especially when it was so easy to pick people up wherever she went. Speaking of...

“But that woman outside of your hotel room-”

“That was my _therapist_ ,” says Oksana so fast that Eve just knows she was ready for this query.

“I didn't want it getting out that I was seeing one. Thought it was safer if she came here.”

Eve digests this next bit of info for a bit as well and then places her hand over top Oksana's. “You know there's nothing wrong with having mental illness, right? In fact, it's pretty damn normal.”

She thought she had said something reassuring but Oksana makes a face, as if the thought of being labeled normal is an insult.

So Eve adds, “Hell, _I_ could probably benefit from seeing a therapist myself.”

“Because of me?” kids Oksana. There's a guarded look in her eye though that lets Eve know that she's not entirely joking.

Her dear husband for one. Her less than stellar relationship with her mother for another. Numerous other reasons. She settles for the least but also most serious option.

“Pretty much,” she says with a small smile in place.

“Wow. You really know how to make a girl feel special,” replies Oksana in mock cheer, a hand to her heart.

“That's me all right,” says Eve, enjoying this banter between them, even though it's totally inappropriate given the subject matter. “Eve Yang. Lady charmer,” she says, making a hand gesture like she's showcasing this title in Neon Lights.

“Can't argue with that. How many times did you _charm_ me tonight, Eve?” says Oksana, mischievously. “Was it five or six times?” she says, waggling her eyebrows. “I'm a bit hazy on the details.”

Eve blushes and then says, “Are you humble bragging _for_ me now, Oksana?”

Oksana shrugs and says nonchalantly, “Just giving credit where credit is due. Which is fortunate since you've all but _maxed_ out my _card_ for the time being.”

Jesus Christ this dialogue was beginning to get uncomfortably close to that of the film. It's probably a good idea if she steers them away to something a little more serious. A little less dangerous. It would be all too easy to slip into something resembling the Smiths' relationship. As much as she wants Oksana to keep this going, to hold her, to do any number of normal things, Eve still isn't sure she can be trusted. She still doesn't know if anything's truly changed with Oksana, or if she's playing some elaborate and cruel joke on her because she's really just a sadistic monster like Villanelle.

Oksana must sense the shift in her thoughts because the facetious air lifts to be replaced by complete and utter anticipation.

She decides she might as well be blunt as a rusty sword. “How do I trust you after...” she glances away, “after you...after what you did?”

_Perfect execution, Eve_ , she thinks sarcastically.

When she looks back, it's to find that Oksana had also averted her gaze. “I don't know,” answers Oksana honestly, looking back into her eyes. “If I were in your shoes, I wouldn't trust me either.”

That was all well and good but hardly helpful. “You've got to give me a bit more than _that_ , Oksana,” pleads Eve.

Oksana takes a few moments to collect her thoughts, absentmindedly playing with a strand of Eve's hair.

“I'd like to say that I'm a different person now, but everyone knows that a few weeks of therapy can't work _that_ much of a miracle. And yes, I just dissed myself. I thought you'd appreciate my character growth.” Eve throws her an unamused look so Oksana clears her throat and becomes serious again. “What I'm _trying_ to say is that I'm making an effort now. I'm trying to get better. I _want_ to be better. For lots of reasons.” She puts a hand to the side of Eve's face and rubs a thumb across her cheek. “But mostly for you.” She pauses a few seconds to let that sink in. “I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. About my life and what I want out of it.” She swallows and licks her lips. “And I want you. And _only_ you.”

There's such sincerity in her voice and gaze that Eve finds it difficult to doubt her. Still, there's a niggling in the back of her brain that won't lie dormant. Oksana's quite the charmer, quite the chameleon, and Eve could just be seeing what she wants to see right now. Her perception could be skewed by the afterglow. She might be reading Oksana totally wrong, or otherwise paying attention to the wrong cues. She needs some kind of proof that this therapist is real to even _begin_ to alleviate her concerns.

She doesn't get the chance to ask though.

“Both Konstantin and my therapist say that's why I cheated on you.”

What the fuck. She's totally lost. That twisted bit of logic hurts her brain.

“You cheated on me because you like me so much?” is all she can manage to get out.

“I know it's not conventional,” says Oksana. “But I'm hardly conventional, as most of the tabloids would agree.” Eve shoots her yet another no-nonsense look and Oksana loses the humour. “There's things about me, about my past that you don't know. No one knows. Except for Konstantin and now my therapist.”

“Must be some secret if not even the tabloids got a whiff of it.” Eve takes a second to debate whether or not she really wants to open this can of worms and then, “Does it have something to do with Anna Leonova?”

Oksana looks at her in complete genuine shock which all but confirms her suspicions. “How...how could you possibly-”

“Just a hunch.” Oksana doesn't seem to be buying that. “Okay, I _may_ have been slightly obsessed with you, with your story some years back and did a deep dive online. I came across some old photos of you two while you were still her student. There was a familiar looking cake in the background. One that looks just like your phone case. And you're oddly protective of that thing.” She nudges Oksana to get her focused again. “Well, are you going to fill in the blanks for me or not?”

Judging by her unhurried response, Oksana hadn't been planning on divulging the specifics here, but now that she's been cornered, she has little choice. It's either tell Eve everything, or risk her walking away from them...for good.

Oksana seems miserable when she finally confesses, “I'm in love with her.”

Eve had been expecting something like that, but it still stung to hear it out loud. On the bright side, it indicated that Oksana was at least _capable_ of love. Or some version of it.

“Nothing ever happened between us,” Oksana rushes to explain. “But I could never really let go. A lot of my bad behaviour stems from that.”

Oksana goes on to explain the situation more in depth, and by the end of it, Eve's mind is reeling.

“So...to sum up...you first developed feelings for Anna when you were eleven....she was your sexual awakening at fourteen...and you're _still_ in love with her...but then you developed unexpected feelings for me...but it felt like a betrayal of this first love even though Anna's not even aware of your feelings for her...so to salvage this non-existent relationship as well as push me away, you subconsciously decided that blatantly cheating on me was the best option?”

“Exactly,” smiles Oksana, apparently glad that Eve's finally caught up.

For fucks sake. She assumed Oksana was messed up in the head, she just didn't think she was _quite_ that crazy. What the hell has she gotten herself into?

Oksana's good cheer is aggravating.

“You _really_ don't see how this might throw a wrench into things?” She gestures between them. “Into _this_?”

Whatever _this_ is?

“People can love more than one person at a time, Eve,” replies Oksana with an eye roll, seemingly without much thought. They both look at each other like deer caught in headlights. Oksana recovers first and chuckles nervously. “I'm not saying that I'm in love with you. Just so we're clear on that.”

Her voice is perfectly confident. Her demeanor is not.

Eve's aggravation grows. “Kind of defeats your argument then, doesn't it?”

It takes a few seconds for her point to sink in.

Oksana runs a hand over her face. “That's not...ugh.” She holds Eve's gaze as she says, “Okay, look, I really like you, Eve, I do. I'm just not _in_ love with you.”

The _yet_ is left unsaid but felt everywhere. Eve can't help but to soften and reciprocate.

“I really like you too, Oksana,” she says. They share a subdued but affectionate smile. She hates to break up the mood but there's nothing for it. “But if you betray me again...”

“I won't. I want this. So much.”

She takes Eve's hand and kisses it, not unlike poor Max from the escape room. Eve's almost wondering if she should've taken _him_ up on his offer. He would have probably been a lot less complicated. It's a bit of an effort not to let loose a laugh during this serious heart to heart moment.

_Get it together, Eve!_

“I won't fuck it up again. You have to believe me.”

The sincerity is oozing off of her in waves, and yet, Eve's not sure she'll ever be able to fully trust her.

She grips Oksana by the chin. “You better not be lying to me about _any_ of it or I swear to God...”

“I don't think you're capable of murder, Eve,” teases Oksana. She grins evilly at her. “Unless of course we're talking about la petite mort, then you're _very_ skilled at murder.”

Eve rolls her eyes and shoves Oksana's shoulder. She may be an American transplanted in Britain because of her husband, but she still knows what that means. Oksana it seemed could have a very one track mind. Which, given their current lack of dress is hardly surprising.

“Can you be serious for more than five minutes at a time?”

“Yes, but it's very difficult for me. Apparently humour is my defense mechanism.”

It's Eve's turn to rub at her face and tired eyes. It was after all, pretty late. Much later than she normally would stay up after a full filming day. Still, they're not done here and she won't be able to sleep until they settle things further. She comes to a decision then.

“If we're going to do this, we need to set some ground rules.”

“Such as?”

“Such as, this _has_ to stay quiet.”

Oksana doesn't make a joke about sex for once which is how Eve knows she's actually considering what she is saying.

She counts off on her fingers, “No PDA's, no touching at all except for our scenes, no not so subtle comments, no _staring_. We need to keep things exactly the same. No one can know about this.”

“Not even, Elena?” asks Oskana, with a studied uncaring air, which is obviously fake.

To be honest, Eve really doesn't want to have that particular conversation with her. Elena was so happy to hear she had stopped being down in the dumps over Oksana. She would be at best apathetic to this new development and at worse devastated herself. No matter what Elena said, Eve was pretty sure she liked her as more than just a friend.

It was best for everyone involved if no one knew about them.

“Not even Elena,” confirms Eve, and feels slimy the moment it leaves her mouth.

Strangely enough, she is a lot more conflicted about _this_ decision than the actual affair itself. Go figure.

“Okay.”

Eve blinks at that. “That's it? I thought you'd object.”

Or more to the point, some part of Eve hoped Oksana would want to shout about this from the rooftops, like they were in some cheesy musical and she just couldn't help herself.

“If this is what you need from me, then I'll do it. I just want to be with you, Eve.” Eve can see the exact moment in her eyes when Oksana switches to silly mode. “If that means sacrificing makeout sessions at work and depriving people of my hilarious sex jokes about you, then I can do that.”

It dawns on Eve then that Oksana has never actually been in a relationship before. She doesn't know the first thing about compromise or bargaining for more with a significant other. With Niko in recent years, it had been like pulling teeth trying to get her way about virtually anything. Needless to say, Eve is completely unused to this complete and utter lack of resistance and absolute eagerness to please. She's almost giddy with the sudden power dynamic shift and having complete control.

Evidently it's showing all over her face because Oksana says, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It's just...nevermind.”

Eve tugs Oksana towards her by the back of the neck and kisses her with feeling. In her mind, this is how they're 'sealing the deal' so to speak. Like the demons on _Supernatural_. Okay, maybe that was a bad comparison.

She doesn't have a chance to come up with a better one because Oksana follows this move by rolling half on top of her, and slotting her upper thigh between Eve's legs just so. The sensitivity has long since receded, and as such, this action, this friction causes her to moan lowly into Oksana's still connected mouth.

Oksana smiles slightly into their sultry kisses and murmurs, “I knew you could go again. You're just so hot for me.”

Eve can't be bothered to rebuke that smug comment. Especially not when it's true.

“Shut up and fuck me,” is her only response.

“With pleasure,” says Oksana. She nudges Eve's unstraddled leg further apart to get better access, to bear down with more of her weight, and then begins slowly humping herself against Eve's own thigh. The lazy rocking motion has her pressing deliciously into Eve over and over again. But it's not quite enough. She clutches at Oksana's ass to keep her close but also to urge her to move a little faster, a little harder. The slickness on thighs increases with every roll of the hips. Oksana's really going at it now and that familiar pressure is building rapidly, coiling tighter and tighter within her. She just needs a little something more...

“Are you close?” breathes Oksana heavily into her ear. “I want to come with you this time.”

Plainly, those words were the something more because Eve's soaring now and letting out an embarrassingly loud and high-pitched gasp of pleasure.

Oksana makes a bit of a whining sound, like she's annoyed at Eve's inability to hold out a bit longer.

But then Oksana says, “That's so hot,” and stills against Eve while her own orgasm takes hold.

Oksana just sort of lazily lies on top of her for awhile, completely spent. Eve wouldn't mind so much, except Oksana is not exactly smelling like a bed of roses right now. She was smelly to begin with, but now she full on reeks, and Eve doesn't particularly want to hold her close now that the throes of passion are fading.

Thankfully, she doesn't have to.

There's an embarrassingly long groan from someone's tummy. Like a zombie in search of brains.

She looks at Oksana who looks somewhat affronted by the uncouth sound emanating from her own body.

Oksana rolls onto her back, giving Eve some much needed relief, and pats her stomach. “Guess the old girls hungry.”

Eve's about to comment when her own stomach responds in kind. If possible, the lamenting whale sound is even louder than Oksana's zombie.

They stare at one another and then burst into laughter.

Eve wonders how long this good mood between them will last. It seemed that things were awfully transitory where Oksana was concerned.

“I guess I should really order that room service now, huh?”

“Yes, you definitely should.”

Oksana hops off the bed fully nude. Eve tries and fails not to stare too much at every inch of exposed skin. Clearly she had been a bit rough as there were a fair number of red marks dotting the otherwise unblemished porcelain canvass.

“I need to pee, but make sure to order a burger. I need some red meat after that fuck fest!”

Eve reaches for the landline but then her own phone vibrates across the nightstand. She picks it up and checks out the Twitter notification. Her eyes go wide as she clicks on it. Her pulse races as she puts her head in her hand and curses the universes bad sense of timing. Sometimes she wonders if there's actually a diabolical puppeteer pulling her strings and intentionally driving her ever closer to madness, all for their own amusement.*

“Jeez, it's like a funeral in here all of a sudden. What gives?” says Oksana when she comes back into the bedroom.

Eve holds up her phone towards Oksana with a slightly shaking hand.

“Is this why you were late?”

Being somewhat obsessed with all things Oksana, Eve had her Twitter set up to tell her of all notable mentions of the unpredictable diva – something she never did turn off even after the betrayal. It had been uncharacteristically silent in recent weeks, which led Eve to believe that _perhaps_ Oksana _was_ willing to turn over a new leaf. But now she's not so sure again.

The link had taken her to a news article detailing a hit and run and how Oksana was the prime suspect.

Eve says as much.

Oksana is completely silent for a moment and then explodes.

“What?! That's ridiculous! I was driving a fucking motorcycle!” She goes over to the wall and punches right through the drywall. And as surprising as that is, Eve can't help but to feel a little turned on. “That fucking cop! He's behind this!” Apparently her rage dulls the pain for a few seconds because it's only now that she grabs her knuckles and yelps, “ _Fuck_!”

Yes, Max definitely would have been less complicated.

A bout of hysterical giggles bubbles forth once more and this time she can't contain it. She carries on for a while, until tears start leaking down her cheeks, and Oksana just stares at her in bewilderment, holding her throbbing hand.

“I'm glad you're taking such enjoyment in my pain,” snarls Oksana.

It takes a lot to control herself but eventually she does. “Sorry.”

“Give me that,” says Oksana, snatching her phone away. She scrolls through the article, then goes back to the top. “For fucks sake, Eve,” she says, tossing the phone back to her, “this was posted on _Bild_.” Eve looks at the page again and then gives her a blank look. “Germany's biggest tabloid? How do you _not_ know that by now?”

Oh. Well in that case, she felt considerably better about the situation.

“So, if it's not a reputable news source,” she says, clicking her phone off, “then does it really matter?”

“Of course it matters!” exclaims Oksana, pacing around. “It's a matter of principle! If that piece of shit cop thinks he can get away with this, then-”

“Oksana, come back to bed.”

That stops her good and proper.

“It's two in the morning. From what I can tell, you don't have a phone or a wallet or a vehicle. You can't do anything about this right now. You should sleep on it.”

“Okay,” she mutters like a chastised child and crawls back under the covers.

Eve goes to order room service again but then Oksana snatches her phone. “You're right, _I_ don't have a phone, but _you_ do.”

“Oksana, give that back,” she orders as Oksana jumps out of bed.

Eve gets out of the bed too and tries to grab it from her, but Oksana has a slight height advantage and holds it over her head.

“What's your password?”

“I'm not going to tell you that,” says Eve, making a play for her phone.“So just hand it over.”

“Not until I leave a little message on their website. Then I promise you can have it back.”

“You're being ridiculous, Oksana,” she says, making another play for her phone. “You're not going to get them to take it down by leaving a ranting post in the comment section.”

“We'll see about that! Password now.”

“No.”

“I can do this _all_ night, Eve! So you might as well just tell me!”

Eve changes tactics and tickles Oksana's sides mercilessly.

Oksana just smirks down at her and says, “Sorry, baby, that doesn't work on me.”

She's not sure if it's the somewhat mocking term of affection or her failure to produce the expected result, or the fact that it's been the longest day of her life, but Eve loses it and full on attacks Oksana, knocking her to the carpeted floor. They tussle for awhile, totally nude, until they both tire themselves out.

“Okay, okay,” relents Oksana. “Have your stupid phone back.”

She's still lying on top of Oksana when she says, “I think maybe you should just leave.”

“Fine,” comes the delayed reply.

Eve gets off of her and Oksana goes to collect her scattered, smelly clothes. She doesn't bother to put them on. “See you in the morning.” She steps up to Eve and gives her a final grumpy kiss. “Goodnight.”

Upon her departure, Eve closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose.

She was a damn fool. A damn damn fool. A damn damn damn-

She doesn't have long to keep that eloquent train of thought going because there's a knock at the door.

Eve opens it to find Oksana standing there, still naked, still with clothes in hand. “I don't have my card.”

Eve groans internally. “Fine. Go take a shower and then come to bed. You reek in case you didn't know.”

“You don't smell so great yourself, Eve,” comes the grumpy retort. She smiles faintly and-

“I'm _not_ taking a shower with you, Oksana.” She pushes her towards the bathroom, and then finally calls room service.

She gets an automated message saying it's well past the hours of operation. Duh. She can't order anything until six o'clock.

Eve feels like crying again but instead makes her way to the mini-fridge. Surely, there's something edible in there.

There's nothing though, nothing except more bottles of wine, and that's the last thing she needs right now.

Before she can have a breakdown, the phone rings.

Not hers, but the landline.

She picks up. “Yes?”

“We've had several noise complaints over the past few hours,” says a bored hotel employee. “And now there's been shouting. Is everything all right?”

Eve tries not to feel too embarrassed, or unsettled, by this call-out.

She swallows. “Everything's fine.”

“Are you sure, Ms. Yang?”

“It's fine,” she reiterates, and then a sudden idea hits her. “But uh, would it be at all possible to get some food up here? It's just...there's no room service and-”

A deep, long suffering sigh sounds. “What would you like?”

Eve brightens considerably. “Could you get a burger. And fries? And make it-”

“Double?”

“Well, yes,” she offers lamely, blushing once more.

Obviously she's been enjoying someone's company these last few hours. Duh.

“What would you like to drink?”

“Oh, uh, ice tea would be great.”

“Good choice. And what would Miss Astankova like?”

“Excuse me?” she blinks in surprise.

There's a slight delay and then, “I know she came in the building, but that she didn't use her card.”

His voice is no longer bored, but intelligent and alert, and, to Eve's mind at least, menacing.

With a pounding heart she says, “That doesn't mean-”

“I know about the last time _you_ didn't use your card too.”

She doesn't know if he's the concierge or security, but either way, she's not going to let him get away with harassing her like this.

“Who are you? I'm going to report you-”

“For what?”

“For threatening one of your guests.”

“ _Have_ I threatened you, Ms Yang? All I've done is made certain allegations. Certain allegations that I think certain publications would be _very_ interested to hear.”

“You don't have any proof.”

It would just be another _Bild_ situation, she reassures herself. No one would take it seriously even if he _did_ start a rumour.

“I wouldn't be so sure about that.” He pauses dramatically. “You do realize that there are _cameras_ in the hallways, right?”

That stops Eve cold. Her brain literally malfunctions. It was one thing to have them enter and leave each others rooms at odd hours, it was another thing altogether when one of them leaves in the buff in the middle of the night. Not much to interpret there.

Some sense returns.

“I've never seen any,” she says, doing her utmost to keep calm, even as she steadies herself against the wall.

“They're hidden of course.”

“You're bluffing.”

“Are you willing to take that risk?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know where the blackmailing story line came from. It just happened. Lame.
> 
> *heehee
> 
> I love my smelly, hungry gays. :) Sorry if y'all thought this would end romantically lmao. I'm also horribly sorry to disappoint anyone who thought this entire chapter would just be them boning. I thought about that, but then I was like, I don't wanna...and there's more to come anyway.
> 
> So I decided that O wouldn't call E baby in a sexy setting since the show has only ever used it in a mocking way...and more or less that's what I did in chapter 2 as well. I'll just have to come up with some other term of endearment...like pumpkin. XD
> 
> And gays...someone on Tumblr pointed out that you can literally hear sirens in the finale scene right before Eve asks if V is gonna kill her!!..so the whole fake paramedic thing was always planned and not just some random turn of events...which also leads me to believe that I'm right about my theory that V gets back to Paris HOURS BEFORE E does, but she's busy staking out her own apartment for more assassins (after Inga)...but then E shows up and V decides to go in after her...it explains why there's barely any separation despite (presumably) being on different flights out of Moscow. And it explains why V wasn't at all surprised to see E in her apartment...and it's kind of sad then...because V went in to keep her safe and E rewarded her with a stab wound. :p  
> I don't know if this is going to come up next ep/this season/ever, but I would love it if it does obviously. xD


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy hell that episode guys...Lord have mercy for what the REST of the season is going to be like. Definitely liked this episode three more than last seasons lol. Apparently three is the one in which she wears suits. Two thumbs up.

After a relatively quick, invigorating shower, she towels off and then steals the hotel supplied robe, a typical fluffy white number. It's lovely and smells a bit like Eve does when she actually smells nice. Considering her long torturous day, her altercation with the evil cop, her smashed hand, and being half starved, she's in surprisingly good spirits. Being clean always did wonders for her state of mind, which is part of the reason she detests exercise so much. Unfortunately, given her fondness for food and her profession, it was an unavoidable evil that she simply _had_ to endure on a regular basis.

To say that she's not looking forward to working out at five in the morning - which was only a few hours from now – would be a massive understatement. She'd rather eat glass. At this point she might as well not even bother going to sleep, but if Eve is offering to share the bed, she's definitely not going to turn that down. She's never actually shared a bed with someone before, not in _that_ capacity. Usually her one (sometimes two) night stands simply left afterwards. (She of course never does the leaving). She's imagined what it might be like with Anna countless times, but it was just that, make believe. So she's very curious to find out what it's _really_ like.

However, when she leaves the bathroom, Eve's nowhere to be found. Her phone's still lying on the bed though, so presumably she hasn't gone far. Oksana's very tempted to try and figure out her password or otherwise snoop through Eve's things, but she decides to show some restraint for once. Eve deserves her privacy for now, especially after fucking her so well.

She thinks about going out on the balcony but then remembers how disastrous that was the last time. It would be even more so since this isn't even _her_ balcony to step out on. If she's being completely honest, she's more than a little pissed off that Eve doesn't want this, doesn't want _them_ , getting out. Why wouldn't Eve want the world to know she's dating the elusive Oksana Astankova? She's quite the catch, if she says so herself.

Oksana blanches for a moment.

Dating? Is that what she's doing now? The thing she swore she'd never do after she lost Anna to her dumb husband?

But this _isn't_ about Anna. She has to keep reminding herself of that fact. She needs to focus on real tangible things like her therapist suggested.

Eve is real and tangible and she needs to do whatever it takes to keep her, or she'll likely slip back into her Anna obsession and host of other bad habits.

If nothing else, learning to control herself better has made her life a lot less expensive. It's been just over a month since the ice cream incident, and outside of the cop, she hasn't had a single notable altercation. At least not one that's cost her anything financially speaking. She can barely remember the last time she was so free of controversy. She finds it very strange and oddly freeing not having Konstantin breathing down her neck every other day, despairing with her to behave. As much as she loves being the centre of attention, she thinks maybe she wants to keep this out-of-the-spotlight-thing going in her personal life. She just needs to deal with the damn tabloid in the morning and everything should be golden going forward.

With that thought in mind, maybe she's not _quite_ so pissed off at Eve for wanting to keep this thing between them secret. After all, she knows without a shadow of a doubt that the entertainment news outlets would explode with this knowledge. If she were feeling naughty and more like her old self right now, she might intentionally leak the information herself.

She'd put a pin in that.

For now.

It's around now that her hand starts throbbing again with a vengeance, as if the hot water sped up the circulation and forced all the blood there. Her right hand is pretty red and swollen. She's lucky she didn't break anything considering the literal hole in the wall. As impressed as she is with her own brute strength, her hand is _really_ starting to hurt, and she needs to bring down the swelling pronto. Thankfully there's ice cubes in the mini-fridge, so all she has to do is wrap those in a thin cloth and ease her poor hands suffering.

About ten minutes later Eve finally reappears in some absentmindedly - that is to say, mismatched - thrown together attire.

“Where did you-”

“No room service.” She holds up the hefty bag of take out from McDonald's. Not exactly Oksana's favourite place, but likely the only one open at this time of night, so she forgives this. “Hope you're still hungry,” says Eve with a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. “I got double orders of everything.”

“You're an angel,” she smiles, genuinely meaning it in that particular moment in time.

Eve's smile falters for a second but then comes back even bigger. They settle down at the table and Eve lays out the spoils. Two Big Macs, two quarter pounders with all the fixings, and four orders of large fries. Oksana is very hungry, nearly salivating onto the table top, but even _she_ doesn't think they can get through this much food. She's seen how Eve eats. It's definitely in a much more reserved, measured way. The way her personal trainer and dietitian _wishes_ she would eat.

“Went a little overboard, huh?” she jokes before taking a monster mouthful of Big Mac.

It's absolutely heavenly and she doesn't even bother to stifle the moan. No point after what they just got up to. She's almost a little surprised that they didn't receive any noise complaints. Oksana in particular never holds back when she's enjoying herself.

“Did I?” replies Eve, distractedly.

She watches as Eve slowly chews on a single fry, but otherwise doesn't eat anything.

Something was off with her again, and it _wasn't_ alcohol related.

Oksana takes a moment to properly swallow the huge chunk of masticated cow meat (presumably) before broaching this subject. The last thing she wants to do is choke on some food. What an embarrassing way to die. She hopes she goes out in a blaze of glory, like from skydiving, or white water rapids, or something equally thrilling and totally not lame. Preferably this would happen right around the time she starts getting old and ugly. With a little bit of luck and a lot of expertise this might well not be until her sixties. Needless to say, the thought of aging gracefully kind of terrifies her. She should ask Eve how she's perfectly fine with it.

“Is everything all right, Eve?”

“Why would you ask me that?” says Eve evasively, looking away.

“You've barely touched your food,” she says with raised eyebrows. “And I know for a _fact_ that you're starving.”

She glances to Eve's stomach and grins. Eve doesn't seem to share her humour.

“The fries are too hot,” she says. “I was just letting them cool off a bit first.”

It's a reasonable explanation, but Oksana doesn't buy it for one second. She's the queen of bullshitting and she almost always knows when someone is lying to her.

Oksana figures she should make Eve eat a bit first before really digging in her heels to find out what's the matter. She knows she can get quite hangry and uncommunicative as a result. And she wonders if Eve is the same way.

“The burgers are a nice temperature. Start with those.” When she makes no move to comply, Oksana jokes, “You can't expect me to eat _all_ of this by myself, Eve. I'm good, but I'm not _that_ good.”

Eve unwraps one of the burgers with all the fixings and begins to eat in a perfunctory way, clearly not enjoying it as much as she should be given her obvious need for sustenance.

They eat in companionable silence, Oksana devouring her burgers and one serving of fries in five minutes flat. It seems the more Eve eats, the more she gets into it, and she's finished one burger and half a serving of fries in the same time span. She seems to have perked up a bit at the injection of calories into her system.

Oksana grabs a glass of water for both of them from the bathroom and sets Eve's before her on the table. She takes a long draught and watches as Eve continues to eat her no doubt cold fries. They were only lukewarm to begin with.

“Are you going to tell me what's wrong now?”

Eve looks at her this time, maintains eye contact. “Nothing's wrong. I'm just tired.”

It's partially true. Eve definitely looks weary. There's more to the story though.

“Why are you lying to me?”

“I wouldn't make that kind of an accusation,” says Eve a little heatedly. “Not after what _you_ did.”

Shamed into momentary submission, she looks down.

She sighs. “I'm just worried about you, that's all.”

Again, it's partially true. But more than anything her curiousity has peaked.

“Well, don't be. I'm fine.”

It's the sort of bullshit she spun Anna not too long ago.

“I'm going to bed,” announces Eve, standing up abruptly, the rest of the food forgotten. She strips her shirt off on the way. “Are you coming or not?”

Oksana's a bit ticked off at being avoided, at not getting her way, but she would have plenty of time to get down to the bottom of this mystery come morning. Which was just over three and a half hours from now. If she goes to bed now, there's not much chance she's getting up to workout at five. Skipping one day didn't matter so much. The problem was, if she skips once, she generally skips again and so on and so on, until she's gained ten pounds and her trainer has a shit fit.

Oksana shucks off the robe, gets in the bed, and waits for Eve to catch up. Clearly Eve hadn't bothered with underwear because she's also totally nude when she slips under the covers. Eve immediately turns on her side, away from her, claps twice and the lights go out.

Suddenly Oksana's feeling very awkward. She doesn't know what to do with herself. Despite everything, she's not all that tired, and she doesn't think Eve would appreciate being the little spoon right now. This isn't at all how she pictured her first time to be, and frankly she's a bit disappointed, and above all, _annoyed_ at Eve for ruining it.

Deciding to risk it, she also turns on her side and shuffles closer until Eve's - somewhat smelly - warmth is within reach. As predicted, Eve doesn't appreciate this action. She stiffens against Oksana's front. Oksana expects Eve to snap at her or otherwise push her away, but then surprisingly, she pushes _back_ into her even more. She even pulls Oksana's arm securely around her stomach.

Oksana smiles stupidly to herself and snuggles fully into Eve's less than stellar hair.

She could get used to this.

*

Groggily, she wakes up to the simultaneous insistent alarm on Eve's phone and knocking at the door.

Judging by the light peeking through the curtains, it's after six. Yeah, she definitely wasn't working out today. At this rate, she's going to be late for work. They both are.

Eventually Eve turns the damn phone off and goes to answer the damn door, putting on the same robe Oksana wore the previous night. She stretches leisurely like a cat, and winces a bit at the stiffness of her right hand. The redness and swelling have gone down in the last few hours, but now her knuckles are black and blue.

Fuck.

Bill was going to give her an earful about that if the make-up artist can't cover it up before they start filming for the day. But even then, if she struggles to manipulate objects, like the ever-present gun her character wields in recent scenes, it's going to be a major problem.

She watches as Eve looks through the peephole. She was rigid before but now she relaxes a little. Apparently whoever it is isn't someone Eve feels like they have to worry about finding them like this. That narrows the list down considerably, so she's hardly surprised when Konstantin steps through the threshold.

“Go away,” she complains when he comes further into the room.

“Go away?” he says in some irritation. “I've been searching for you all night, and _that's_ what you have to say to me?”

“Why would you do something stupid like that?” She eyes him mischievously. “I thought you were enjoying your _company_?” She looks to Eve, who is kind of just awkwardly standing there. “He's sleeping with Carolyn.”

It doesn't produce as much of a result as she'd like, but Eve at least has the good grace to look mildly surprised. Maybe it was a pretty obvious piece of gossip come to think of it. They weren't exactly subtle on set when he came to visit, bearing gifts and all. She kind of resents Konstantin's freedom to do so. She's not saying she _wants_ to ply Eve with presents every day. She's simply pissed off that she doesn't even have the _option_. It isn't fair.

Once more she contemplates leaking this 'juicy' secret herself.

Once more she decides to put a pin in it.

“I _was_ ,” he says, exasperated, “until you called from the _police station._ Or had you forgotten that little detail? You could have let me know you were okay.” He calms down a bit. “I was worried about you.”

She can tell it's the truth and she feels a little bad. “Sorry...I was a bit distracted.”

Konstantin glances over at Eve, who is even more awkward now, fidgeting in place. “Yes, I can see that.” A beat passes and he points, “What happened to your hand?”

“I wanted it to match my jacket, you know the one with the...”

Konstantin's staring at the hole in the wall and there seems little point carrying on. He rolls his eyes. “That is going to be expensive.”

“There's a card attached to this hotel room, isn't there? Put it on that.”

“I don't think _Eve_ would appreciate that too much. Would you, Eve?”

Eve shakes her head. “Bill would kill me.”

She shoots Eve an annoyed look before Konstantin looks back to her. “Ugh. Fine. Put it on _my_ card. There, you happy now?”

“I've never been happier in my life,” he says completely expressionless.

It's Oksana's turn to roll her eyes. “Was there something else or-”

“They've taken down the article, and the cop in question has been suspended pending further inquiry.”

And Oksana can say she is very taken aback. Konstantin works fast, but this is a record even for him.

She jumps out of the bed, and hugs him completely naked.

“Oksana!” he yelps, hands at his side. “Stop that! And put some clothes on!”

Oksana pulls away and goes to wrap herself in one of the sheets, Roman style.

When Konstantin gets over his embarrassment, he looks at her again. “I'm glad that you're so grateful, but this is still a serious matter. You never know what these types will do. You may want to watch your back.”

It's not the first time he's said this, and doubtless it will not be the last.

“What's he going to do, Konstantin?” she jokes, mood lighter than it's been in weeks. Pretty much everything seemed to be going her way right now. “Murder me?”

Eve makes a strange sound at that and they both turn towards her.

“What's wrong with her?” says Konstantin. “Why is she just standing there like that?”

Eve seems to realize how awkward she's being so she announces, “I'm taking a shower!” and then disappears into the bathroom.

“She's been acting strangely since last night,” says Oksana, peering at the closed door as if she has x-ray vision.

“She probably realized she made a big mistake sleeping with you again.”

The water turns on and she redirects her attention to Konstantin, a scowl in place. What if he was right? What if Eve _did_ regret sleeping with her again? What if she's planning on breaking it off at the first opportunity?

“Excuse you. Who was the one who told me to go for this? Who was the one who set up my therapy sessions? Who was the one who-”

“Okay. Okay. I was joking,” he says with upright palms. “Maybe she's just tired? You are known to be quite tiresome.”

“Har har,” she grumbles, crossing her arms, mood continuing to plummet.

He places a hand on her shoulder and briefly she contemplates biting it. “I am seriously happy for you. Don't mess this up.”

“I don't _plan_ to.”

“See that you don't. I don't want to deal with the fallout.”

“Has anyone ever told you how caring and lovely of a human being you are? Wait...didn't your _wife_ _leave_ you?”

Konstantin ignores the dig and shakes a finger rudely in her face. “I want you to be careful. I strongly recommend that-”

“ _No_ bodyguards,” she says rolling her eyes.

“ _Oksana-_ ”

“I can take care of myself,” she says obstinately.

He glances to her busted looking hand and then says, “That's your arrogance and pride talking again.” When it's obvious she's not going to budge he sighs. “At least carry your stun gun.”

She could tell him to go to hell, but to save time she agrees.

“Fine.”

“And no more driving. Not for the next little while at least.”

“Fine.”

Konstantin gives her a suspicious look, like he knows she's bullshitting him, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a hotel card, the one to her room. She snatches it away, gives him a peck on the cheek, which catches him off guard once more. She's rarely this physically affectionate with him, mostly because it embarrasses him, which is precisely why she does it this second time. She's kind of pissed at him for ruining her good mood and making her worry about Eve. She couldn't give two shits about the cop.

She's half way to the door in her sheet robe when he says, “Oh and by the way...” he gestures to her forehead, “you might want to deal with that.”

Oksana reaches up and feels a humongous zit. “How bad is it?”

“Pretty bad,” he says. “Deal with that quickly. You need to leave in ten minutes.”

She peeks through the peephole to see that the coast is clear, easy to do at six in the morning, and then goes into her own room for the first time in over twenty-four hours. Like a mint on a pillow - but not on a pillow, right centre on the bed - lay a brand new phone. She could kiss Konstantin again, this time in happiness. He either deduced that her phone was destroyed or retraced her steps and found it destroyed or talked to the captain herself.

Whatever the case was, it was strange seeing the phone without the same phone case she's had for so many years. In a way it's fitting. The destruction of her old phone signaled the end of her Anna obsession. At least she hopes that's the case.* She's not sure what she'll say to her the next time they talk during their weekly catch up session. Should she tell her about Eve? A brief wave of anxiety hits her at that daunting prospect, and then she refocuses on the task at hand.

And the task at hand is gigantic. The zit is so big. Almost like a third eye. It disgusts her almost as much as the prospect of having to wear crocs, like Villanelle was forced to out of necessity. She hasn't gotten a zit in years. And she belatedly realizes this is Eve's fault. Her and her stupid, not clean hair. Whatever, it could've been way worse. This is manageable.

She goes over to the mini-fridge and finds a half shriveled lemon in there. It would do. Oksana cuts this open and squeezes some of the juice single-handedly into a shot glass, then dips a cue tip into this, let's it soak up real good, and bastes the beast like it's a fucking roast.

Oksana knows it's impossible for her to get rid of this monstrosity in the limited time afforded to her, but she refuses to go out into public without at least trying. The make-up artist for the day would just need to work her magic (in more ways than one). Couldn't very well go on screen in her condition.

While she's letting this shrivel up a bit, she brushes her teeth and gets dressed for the day, or at least, for the car ride to the studio. There's not enough time to rent another vehicle before she had to leave. For today at least, she would be following Konstantin's orders and letting someone else drive her, something she hasn't done in ages. Since it really doesn't matter much what she wears for that short lived journey, she puts on a pair of jeans and t-shirt, her most casual attire, outside of her exercise wear.

She checks the mirror again before she exits the hotel room, and despairs to see it's still pretty big and disgusting. As much as she wants to just pop it, she knows that will only make the situation worse in the long run. So Oksana goes even _more_ casual than she already was and throws on a Villanelle baseball cap. One of her most iconic lines, “ _I promise I won't be naughty_ ,” is scrawled across the front in bleeding italics.

Eve happens to be waiting for the elevator when she arrives, lost in thought, and Oksana takes the opportunity to sneak up on her and wrap her in a backwards hug.

The second she does, Eve freezes in terror, and Oksana chuckles in her ear. “It's just me. Not some perv.” She grins. “Well, I _guess_ that's debatable.”

Then she grins wider, reaches up and honks a tit playfully.

“What are you _doing_?” hisses Eve, even after realizing she isn't being molested by a total stranger.

Oksana pouts at her tone and the fact that Eve is not relaxing into her embrace like last night. “Didn't get to say good morning yet.”

 _Making up for lost time_ , she thinks, but doesn't say. It's her own fault for being a dumbass and pushing Eve away in the first place.

Blessedly, Eve's hair is nice and clean - albeit wet - and she smells amazing again. Oksana squeezes her a little tighter, rests her head on her shoulder in appreciation of this fact.

Eve tries to break out of her boa constrictor hold, to no avail. “Let go of me,” she demands. “We're in public.”

“There's no one else here, Eve. Don't worry.”

“Don't tell me what to do. Now let me go.”

“Seriously, Eve, just relax.”

“If you don't let me go right now I'm going to stomp on your foot as hard as I can!”

Oksana debates lifting Eve off the ground to prevent this outcome but relents instead. She already had a busted hand, didn't need a busted foot too.

“Fine,” she grumbles and releases Eve a second before the elevator doors opened to reveal a member of the cleaning staff.

The middle-aged Korean woman stares back at them for a moment, as if she caught an inkling of what had just been going down, but then she just looks to Eve and greets her with a sunny disposition, as if they're old chums.

“Good morning, Jung."

“How do you know her name?” she asks curiously once the woman's further down the corridor with her cart of cleaning supplies.

Eve grabs the door to the elevator before it closes and rudely turns on her, “How do you _not?_ She's been cleaning this floor everyday for over a month.” She pauses a beat. “I think you should take the next one.”

“What?”

“I don't want to share the elevator with you right now.”

“Why? Because I didn't know the cleaning lady's name?” she says incredulously.

“No, because you're _not_ going to keep your hands to yourself and I'm _not_ in the mood.”

“No shit,” she mutters, shoving her hands in her pockets and flinching at the rough fabric on her damaged knuckles.

Eve glares at her once more and lets the doors close in her face.

It seems that just as she's gone all in, Eve wants to bail. And Oksana can't let her do that. She'd do whatever she needed to do to keep her. If that included giving her a bit of space, then she'd just have to suck it up and restrain the urge to touch Eve at every opportunity. It was going to be torture, especially since they _didn't_ have any couple-ish scenes in the near future, but somehow she'd just have to deal.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I think I should've said 'case' once more.
> 
> I love when O and K interact. I wrote the thing about biting his hand before I saw the latest ep lol. The 'charge to the card' was obviously after though. I can say I'm happy with my decision to set this in a hotel. It's paralleling the show easily. Haha
> 
> Also, taser and stun gun are used interchangeably but they're different. For some reason the gun is the one that doesn't shoot out the electricity from a distance lol
> 
> Also, I never really had zits, so I guess lemon juice is a thing...if not, you'll let me know about some other natural method of getting rid of them.
> 
> 'Honks a tit.' you are welcome. (I hate it actually. It sounds so wrong).
> 
> And for anyone who didn't see and is interested, I also added another chapter/scenario to my end of season thingie. But no, it's not a sex one either. xD


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapters a little M-ish...I don't know why I'm warning you since it's tagged M...but anyway...it's maybe a bit weird and abrupt...whatever...have at it ya pervs

 “Late night?” jokes Elena.

Eve's in a bit of a daze so it takes her awhile to realize Elena said something, and awhile longer to understand what she _actually_ said.

“Why would you ask that?”

Does her voice sound strange? Because it sounds strange to her ears.

“Oh I don't know, the fact that you're walking around like a zombie might have tipped me off,” teases Elena.

“Didn't sleep well.”

It's the God's honest truth. She didn't sleep a wink last night. If she were in her right mind, she'd be a bit pissed at how perky Oksana is, at Elena, at seemingly everyone else. As it is, she barely registers her surroundings.

She pours herself a cup of strong coffee from the craft table and then just stares at the croissants.

“You gonna take one of those?” prompts Elena. “Or can I have both?”

“Go crazy,” says Eve, and then just walks away without further comment.

She sits at her designated chair and goes to take a sip of her coffee only to realize it's not actually in her hand. She must have left it back at the craft table. She's too tired to get up again though, so she opens her script up. The words are gibberish to her, like they're written in another language.

She goes through the motions during her scene, acting on autopilot. Apparently no one can tell the difference, because if anything, Bill finds _less_ fault with her than usual.

There's a mid-afternoon break and she decides to have a bit of a lie-in. Her mind is still complete chaos, but her body is practically dead and she can barely keep her eyes open. A knock sounds at her trailer door right when she's settled in.

“Go away,” she says, mimicking Oksana from earlier.

Whoever it is, ignores her and enters anyway.

If she were more with it, she might have been surprised to see Oksana standing there. She's never come into her trailer before. This in and of itself has broken their usual pattern.

And it's only day one.

“What are you doing he-”

Oksana is on her before she can finish the sentence. She's pressed back down into the bed and Eve is too tired to complain. She figures if she just lets Oksana have this one, it'll be over and done with and then she can take her nap.

Her body reignites at Oksana's touch and she finds herself reciprocating, all the more so when she registers that her mind has blessedly quieted.

Abruptly, Oksana stops kissing her, gives her a sheepish expression. “Sorry. I know we said we wouldn't do this.” She pulls back a bit so that she can look her up and down appreciatively and Eve feels shivers erupt at the seductive gaze. “You were just sooo sexy in that scene. I couldn't help myself.”

That seems to be a common mantra of hers. Which is not exactly encouraging.

Oksana starts to get off the bed, “I'll leave you to your nap.”

She grabs her by the crook of the elbow. “You'll do no such thing.”

“Excuse me?” says Oksana, with a politely raised eyebrow.

“You don't get to barge in here and get me all hot and bothered and then just leave. Finish what you started,” she demands.

Despite the tax on her already drained body, she's desperate for that wondrous mental relief. At this rate, she'll be lucky if she doesn't collapse by end of day, and unfortunately, she can't blame it on the heat.

“If you insist,” smirks Oksana and Eve knows she's just been played, but again, she's too tired to care.

Oksana's (undamaged) hand is down her pants when-

“I see you really took my advice to heart, Eve.”

They freeze mid fuck, to find their boss in the trailer with them, mere feet away. She had been so worried about Niko and Elena finding out. And instead it was some asshole hotel employee and Bill.

She looks at Oksana wearily. “You _didn't_ lock the door?”

Oksana gives her another sheepish expression, her hand still down Eve's pants, still inside of her. Neither attempt to get more decent.

Clearly, neither of them have any shame.

“Well, am I getting some sort of explanation or not?” says Bill crossly, arms crossed.

“The situation's complicated,” she gives out lamely. Normally, she would be freaking out and making an ass of herself. There was a strange sense of calm instead, as if she had already accepted her fate. It's not like she can _pretend_ they're doing something other than what they are; their lipstick must be all smudged and smeared. Even _she's_ not that good an actress. Thankfully they're both still mostly clothed and Oksana's body is shielding the fact that her hand is down her pants.

“I'll say,” says Bill, clearly not amused. It was one thing to tease Eve about her apparently obvious inclinations. It was another to witness them first hand. Especially when he's still friends with her husband.

And Jesus, if Bill tells him about this, her life is over. That wakes her up a bit more.

“I should've told you sooner...” she sighs. She looks to Oksana then back to Bill. “I'm separated from Niko.”

“You're...since when?” startles Bill, at the same time she does. Oksana's gone and involuntarily jerked her fingers within her, seemingly in surprise. Eve has to bite down hard on her lip to stifle the moan, and to prevent herself from asking Oksana to do that again.

With great effort she refocuses on this very serious discussion. Out of all the ways she expected to have this conversation, this was decidedly not one of them.

“Since about three and a half months ago.”

Once more Oksana's fingers shift and once more Eve bites down on her lip. This time she covers her face for good measure, in apparent shame. But mostly because she doesn't want Bill to realize they're still having sex with him in the room, inadvertently or otherwise. She definitely was not a voyeur like Oksana's character claimed to be.

“So nice of you to fill me in, Eve,” says Bill tersely. “Why didn't _Niko_ at least say something? He's always been a forthright chap.”

“Niko wants to pretend it's not happening.” She sighs again. “Bill, I tried to file for divorce.” Another twitch of fingers, but this time she's prepared for it so it doesn't phase her as much. “It didn't go over so well.”

That was the understatement of the century.

“You...things are _that_ bad?” softens Bill. “How did I have no idea?”

She lets him digest this for a bit and then as calmly as she can manage says, “Bill, I know you're mad at me right now but you _can't_ tell him about this.” As an afterthought she adds, “It would break his heart.”

“And since when do you care about that?”

“Despite our falling out, I don't want to hurt him.”

She's being such a liar right now but no one seems to be able to tell, not unlike her autopilot acting.

“I need to think,” says Bill distractedly, and then leaves.

She looks up to find Oksana watching her almost solemnly.

“What?” she says wearily.

“You separated from him around the time we met.”

“Yes,” she sighs.

Why was everyone so quick to pick up on that?

Oksana sounds a bit hurt when she says, “We talked for months, Eve, and you never thought it relevant to tell me?”

“Seems like I made the right call, considering.”

Oksana glances away, then looks back to her. “Elena knows though, doesn't she?”

“Yes.”

“Of course she does,” says Oksana sarcastically. “You confide in her about everything. You know she has a thing for you, right?”

“I don't have time for your pointless jealousy, Oksana. I'm too tired.”

Oksana pouts adorably like a smitten kitten. “How is it pointless when you go around kissing her?”

Eve rolls her eyes. “Look, if we're going to play that game, then I should be seething with jealousy over the fact that you're literally in love with another woman.”

“But you're not?” whispers Oksana, almost like she's afraid of the answer.

“I'm not happy about it, but as you've said before, we've all got issues.”

Some more than others.

All of her fears and worries are starting to creep back with a vengeance, and she needs some kind of relief fast if she's going to get through the rest of the day without having a full on mental breakdown.

“Now, are you going to finish fucking me or not?”

*

Somehow she makes it through the rest of the work day, and then in a near comatose state, pays off the blackmailer through an anonymous but secure online transfer service at the agreed upon time. She wonders how long it will be until her management and/or bank questions about this large withdrawal. She wonders what excuse she can give that doesn't sound completely shady.

Even though she's paid him off, she's still afraid that at any moment he's going to release the videos of them in the hallway. He also warned her if she looked into this at all, he would know, and he would release them anyway.

And even if by some miracle Niko never finds out about them and grants the divorce, he could _still_ lay out all of her dirty laundry in revenge at any point in the future.

Needless to say, she's feeling trapped, like if she breathes wrong it's all over.

The only respite from the chaos of her mind is when she's in Oksana's arms. So she's been taking full advantage of her seemingly endless source of energy, exploring all the things that Niko never wanted to. She might as well enjoy herself while she can. Oksana's certainly not complaining. Whatever concerns she had about Eve seem to have vanished. They've been fucking nearly constantly outside of work (and sometimes at work).

“Eve, my god, you're amazing,” pants Oksana. “I knew you were a freak, but I need a break. Just a little one. Then we can go again.”

Oksana's on her hands and knees before her on the bed. Eve's got both hands on the reins of the 'giddy-up' harness around Oksana's shoulder blades. She's also six inches deep inside of Oksana with a bright pink dildo.

She doesn't particularly want to stop. The sense of power she's getting from completely dominating her is exhilarating. Eve figures Oksana hasn't let too many people do this to her before. Possibly she's even the first.

She thrusts a few more times into Oksana, and she yelps. “Seriously, Eve. Just a little break.”

“Fine,” huffs Eve. She lets go of the reins and slides out of her.

Oksana collapses on the bed shortly thereafter, sweaty red face first. Once she's collected her breath, she flips over and looks at her.

“I think you rubbed me raw.”

She supposes she should feel somewhat guilty about that, instead she only feels pride. She can honestly say she's never done that before to another person. The fact that said person happened to have cheated on her _might_ have had a little something to do with her aggression. But mostly, she just enjoyed the thrill.

“Are you saying you can't _handle_ me, Oksana?” she taunts.

Oksana narrows her eyes at the challenge to her sexual superiority. “Give me the strap-on and we'll _really_ see who can't handle who.”

“I don't think so.”

“Are you afraid?” mocks back Oksana.

“I'm not afraid of anything.”

That was the biggest lie she's told yet. She's afraid of everything right now. Even her own shadow.

The fact that there might be an unscrupulous cop out there with a vendetta against Oksana, and she's not the least bit concerned, is frankly concerning. Not for the first time, Eve wonders if Oksana has psychopathic tendencies, and in another life, she _would_ have been the killer she portrayed on screen.

“Prove it,” says Oksana, repeating a line from the movie in which Eve had to dance for her.

Before she has to make a decision one way or the other, the landline rings. She stiffens at the sound. It hasn't done that since the night of the blackmail.

What if he wants even more?

How is she supposed to keep this quiet with Oksana right there?

“Aren't you going to answer that?” says Oksana, curiously watching her.

“It's probably just another noise complaint,” says Eve, coming to her senses. “You don't exactly hold back in that department.”

They've almost exclusively been fucking in Oksana's room since any noise incurred wouldn't raise too many eyebrows as it was expected. If anything, Oksana's previous radio silence in the past month should have been a dead giveaway to Eve that Oksana _had_ been telling the truth about everything.

Oksana grins at her smugly. “That's true. Still, if you don't answer it _now_ , they might send someone up instead and then you'll have to say it was all _you_.”

With a barely restrained sigh, Eve picks up the receiver. She purposely keeps her back to Oksana.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Yang?”

She breathes a little easier when she hears a woman's voice.

“Speaking.”

“You have a visitor.”

She freezes at that again. A visitor? Who the hell could _that_ be?

“It's almost eleven.”

“Yes, I know it's quite late, but he's quite insistent on seeing you.”

“Who is it?”

“He says he's your husband.”

All the blood drains from her face at once, and she's very glad she made the decision to turn away from Oksana.

“What's _he_ doing here?” she says stupidly to the concierge.

“I suppose you would have to ask _him_ that,” comes the slightly bemused reply.

“Tell him I'll be down in five,” she says distractedly.

The only reason she can think why he might be here is because Bill told him about Oksana.

She's a bit light-headed and breathless when she stands up.

“Let me guess, it's your _husband,_ ” says Oksana somewhat jealously, rolling her eyes.

Eve nods absentmindedly and begins to make her way to the door. To her doom.

“You might want to take that off first, Eve,” laughs Oksana, pointing to the hardly subtle dildo jutting out of her crotch.

_Jesus Christ, Eve. Get it together!_

Eve yanks the harness off and drops it to the floor. Then with little thought, she throws on some mismatching things and heads down. She prays that the concierge was mistaken, or else that the man lied and it's someone else entirely. That's her only saving grace here.

But as soon as she sees that familiar leather jacket, she knows it's him. He turns around at her approach, smiles and pulls her into a tight hug. He's still as smokey as ever. She's a little surprised at herself for melting into his embrace. She supposes it's because her body is just so attuned to his after years of marriage, and nothing more.

Okay...she was not expecting such a warm welcome. Maybe he's just pretending to be nice since they're in a public space?

“It's been too long, my dear,” he says into her ear. “Far too long.”

He lets her go and she says, “What are you doing here, Niko?”

He raises an eyebrow at her tone. “Don't tell me you've forgotten?”

“Forgotten what?”

Niko chuckles. “Your birthday, of course.”

“It's not my birthday,” she says automatically, even though she has no idea if that's true or not. She's completely lost track of time these days.

Niko checks his watch. “It _is_ in the next eight hours. I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, you succeeded.”

“Why do I get the impression that you're not happy to see me?”

Eve looks over to the concierge who was clearly not at all attempting to eavesdrop on their conversation, takes Niko by the arm and drags him into the mostly vacant lounge area. Besides the piano player softly tickling the keys, and the bartender, there's no one else here.

“You can't _really_ expect me to be happy to see you after what you threatened to do?” she whispers angrily.

“Look, I'm sorry about that,” he says repentantly. “I am. I was angry. And hurt. I didn't mean it. You must know I would never betray you in that way.”

She's not sure she's buying it. He was very adamant about it at the time. And scorned lovers were known to do all manner of unforgivable things.

“I want to make it up to you.” He reaches inside his jacket and pulls out a small box with a blue ribbon.

If he thinks he can buy back her love, he's got another thing coming.

“I don't want whatever that is,” she says folding her arms.

Niko huffs and slips it back into his inner jacket. “At least let me take you out to dinner.”

As much as she wants to tell him to go to hell, she's suddenly feeling very guilty about what she was up to not ten minutes ago. And if she greases the wheels with him a bit, then perhaps if he finds out about the affair, he'll actually stick to his word. That would at least be one weight off her chest.

“Fine.”

“Really?” he says in disbelief. He chuckles again. “I thought for sure you were going to tell me to go to hell.”

“There's still time,” she says. “Well, if that's it, I'm going to bed.”

“Actually...I kind of came here as a spur of the moment thing,” he says giving her a sheepish look. She's not sure she buys it anymore than she does with Oksana. She knows _exactly_ where this conversation is headed and she doesn't have the patience.

“Your point being?”

“I don't have accommodations.”

“I'm sure the front desk can sort you out.”

“Eve,” he laughs, “you know I can't afford a place like this.”

If he's trying to make her feel guilty about cutting him off too, it's not going to work.

“You're _not_ staying with me,” she says and turns to leave.

There were any number of reasons why he couldn't, but the main one was of course that Oksana was currently lying naked in her bed.

“I'd sleep on the couch of course,” he continues as if he didn't hear her. “Just for one night.”

She turns back to shoot him a final no nonsense look. “ _No_.”

“Eve, _please_. My train was delayed by hours. I'm knackered.”

He was very good at the kicked puppy dog look when he wanted to be, not unlike another certain someone. She seriously needed to stop drawing parallels between them. It was bound to lead to trouble.

Her resolve wavers. “Fine.”

Niko grabs his luggage sitting by the front desk and then they head to the elevator together in silence.

Shortly after they board he glances down and says, “You're not wearing your rings.”

Besides the ones for work, she hadn't been wearing them much, and _especially_ not while she was fucking Oksana. For the most part she had only been wearing them outside of work when she was around Bill. But now even _that_ wasn't necessary. She's actually not even sure _where_ they currently are.

“No, I'm not,” is all she says on the matter, which thankfully he drops.

They get to her floor and her mind is spinning as to what the hell she's supposed to do once they get to her door too. She hadn't brought her phone down so she had no way to warn Oksana about this impending arrival.

Her fears are for naught though because Oksana seems to have anticipated this scenario and has vacated the room. Eve knows this ahead of time because Oksana stuck a bright pink sock on her own door handle. It's Eve's sock. The asshole. Niko hasn't noticed yet, but then there's exaggerated porn sounds, obviously very fake, coming from Oksana's room.

“ _Someone's_ having a good night,” he mutters, side-eying her with a certain glint in his eye, which she pretends not to see.

Eve does her best not to roll her eyes at his stupidity into thinking anything will happen between them tonight, and the fact that he even remotely thinks the sounds are real.

Inside the room, her eyes immediately fall to the floor and where she dropped the harness. She lets out a sigh of relief when she sees it too is gone. The sheets have even been straightened out, and overall the room was as orderly as it ever was in-between room service visits.

Oksana was an asshole, but she was still a considerate one in her own way.

The porn sounds continue unabated, albeit in a more subdued way since the door is closed. She _really_ hopes Oksana stops soon or it's going to be very distracting. She hadn't actually gotten off herself at all tonight, and even though she knows it's all fake, her body is still reacting to the sounds. It's almost as if Oksana is punishing her. Or perhaps this is some sort of twisted test of loyalty? Oksana wants to see if Eve will break and go and fuck her husband, thereby making them equal in the cheating arena.

“There's clean sheets in the cupboard,” she says, not bothering to get him set up herself.

He goes to get them and says, “Uh, Eve, there's nothing here.”

Eve looks over his shoulder from a distance, then glances back to the bed. Shit, Oksana must have changed their (soiled) sheets out for the spare clean ones. She looks back to him before he turns around and sees the direction of her gaze.

“That's weird,” she says, keeping her head. “I'll call down for room service to bring some more.”

“Does it smell a bit off to you?” says Niko afterwards, as he unpacks some things.

Eve didn't notice anything...but if Niko did, that could only mean one thing.

It was lingering sex smells that even the removal of the sheets and opened balcony door wasn't covering up. Oksana did have a fairly pungent (though not unpleasant) odour...but Eve was so attuned to it by now that her brain wasn't picking up on at as being out of the ordinary.

Before he has too much time to place the smell, Eve sprays a bunch of Febreze.

She wonders how she's staying so calm and collected. Maybe Oksana is rubbing off on her?

Eve starts to get dressed for bed, then notices her husband watching her, and goes to finish changing in the bathroom. She doesn't come back out until she's brushed her teeth and moisturized too.

Room service comes and hands them some sheets and a fresh pillow.

Once they're both under their respective covers she says, “Well, good night.”

“Goodnight, Eve.”

She claps the lights out and then lies there in darkness for hours, not unlike the night before, and the night before that. She hasn't slept properly since she started up with Oksana again. And now that her husband was part of the mix, she wonders if she'll ever sleep again. The fact that Oksana continues to make porn sounds until after midnight doesn't help matters. She's itching to touch herself, to get some much needed relief, but she's not sure she can do so discreetly enough with Niko in the room. She was very, for lack of a better word, 'moist' down there.

Even though this situation is all her own doing she can't help but to think, _Fuck my life_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't kill me too much for bringing Niko into this...y'all wanted to see jealous Oksana...y'all are getting it lol
> 
> “Does it smell a bit off to you?” - I died laughing at that part. I really like making these two stink (both literally and figuratively). I know how to write very sexy stuff. Like, the sexiest...that's why I never write a proper sex scene. :p
> 
> And will Eve ever catch a break? Probably not lol


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's part one of the monster chapter that would not end. I only went mildly insane trying to complete it...so progress. Also, it's a bit dirty y'all...compared to the others lol

"So the dinner reservations are for eight-thirty. Is that going to be late enough, Eve?”

“Uh...I guess so.” For the life of her she can't remember what the schedule is for today. Niko's presence on top of everything else has put her back into a dither.

“I can change it if-”

“I'm sure it'll be fine,” she interrupts. Not sure about that at all. If part of her wants to mess this up so that she doesn't have to have a romantic birthday dinner with her husband just to keep on his good side, she's too out of it to care.

She grabs her bag and heads towards the hotel door.

“I was wondering if I could come watch you work?”

Absentmindedly, she turns back to face him, “Why would you want to do that?”

“Because you're brilliant. And because I wouldn't mind saying hi to Bill.”

Half sedated with anxiety and lack of sleep, she repeats herself, “Why would you want to do that?”

Niko gives her a strange look. “Because he's my friend too.”

She doesn't want to make him any more suspicious so she relents. “Okay, fine, but hurry up.”

They get to the elevator and just as the doors are closing, a hand shoots in, making them retreat back into their recesses.

Oksana looks at them, really study's Niko for an unbearably heated moment and then steps inside with a big overly friendly smile.

Vaguely Eve wonders if Oksana had waited for them just to make the trip down super awkward. Her anxiety spikes, numbing her further to reality.

“Good morning, Eve!” says Oksana brightly. “Sleep well?”

She doesn't know how to respond to that without going into full on panic mood. So she simply doesn't.

Both of them look at her while the doors close and wait for a response.

Oksana gazes down then and apparently notices Eve's  _ real _ wedding rings are in place. Her jaw clenches and unclenches but otherwise she makes no remark.

“ _That_ well, huh?” jokes Oksana after a few more awkward seconds. Then she stretches out a hand to Niko. “Hi, I'm Oksana. Eve and I are working on the film together.”

Niko takes her hand and they shake firmly, possibly a bit _too_ firmly because Niko flinches ever so slightly. “Niko.”

“What brings you to town, Niko?” asks Oksana casually, but not at all.

He looks over at her but when she doesn't elaborate, Niko puts an arm around her shoulders and squeezes. “It's Eve's birthday. Thought I'd surprise her with a lovely dinner out.”

Oksana's face is completely frozen in the overly bright manner, which to Eve means that she's totally furious.

“Why that sounds delightful.” She looks to Eve with the creepy fake smile. “Eve, you silly billy,” she says repeatedly poking Eve in the stomach playfully, bordering on painful, “why didn't you tell me it was your birthday today? I would have gotten you something...special.”

Eve's on the verge of having a panic attack for numerous reasons. The enclosed space of the elevator is all but suffocating her.

“Uh...” she says eloquently.

“Eve?” says Niko with a frown.

Oksana waves her off. “Oh, I'm sure she's fine. You know how us women get about our ages,” teases Oksana, nudging Niko in the side. Clearly a bit roughly as he again winces.

“What are your plans for the day, Niko?”

Niko shifts a little away from Oksana as if he doesn't want to be in her space any longer either. “Oh, um, Eve has invited me to watch her on set.”

Oksana goes rigid at that and then looks towards Eve, on the verge of laughter. She looks back to Niko. “Well, I'm sure you'll get extreme _pleasure_ out of watching her work. She's very _skilled_ at her craft. Speaking of, did you hear that horrible racket last night?”

And dear lord, can she just die already?

Niko politely clears his throat.

“It's like we _ge_ _t_ it,” she says with an exaggerated eye roll, “you're really good at sex. Can you please shut up now?”

The longest elevator ride of her life  _ finally _ comes to an end and they exit out onto the ground floor.

“Pleasure meeting you, Niko!” says Oksana with a friendly wave. She glances to Eve, pure mirth in her eyes. “See you at work.”

Niko chuckles upon her departure. “Well, I can't say that's how I imagined the so called Wild Child to be. She's a bit of an odd duck, isn't she?”

“She's something all right,” mutters Eve finally able to breathe again.

 

*

The first short lived group scene gets shot and then they break for cake around eleven. It's kind of an obligatory thing done on sets, at least for the main actors. Good for morale and all that crap. Thankfully, her birthday isn't any time soon, so she doesn't have to suffer through the out of tune, overly loud singing and pretend to be loving it. Instead, since it's _Eve's_ birthday, she has to suffer through it on _her_ behalf. Oksana knows she's not the greatest singer either, but she knows she is better than most of these tone deaf morons. It's actually pretty weird since most actors think they _can_ sing and often star in musical movies they are completely unqualified for. *

She's pretty annoyed that Niko gets to stand right beside Eve, gets to hold her hands as he sings to her – the worst out of all of them of course. Part way through this horrific rendition of the birthday song, she notices that Elena is watching her...watching Eve. And she's pretty sure Elena must know about them. If nothing else, the fact that Eve has completely stopped hanging out with her must be a dead giveaway. Normally she'd give her a smug look but right now she can't force herself to.

The wailing of the demented ceases, and Eve blows out the candles on a Mrs. and Mrs. Smith themed cake. Which is to say, a black and white triple tiered cake topped with miniatures of them dressed in wedding attire, a gun and a knife hidden behind their backs respectively.

Judging by the waiting photographer in the wings, and the fact that the cake is set up in front of a backdrop, Bill had decided to double down on expenses later on, and opted to shamelessly take advantage of Eve's birthday to do a bit of a surprise photo shoot _now_ to promote the film. Clearly he hadn't been anticipating the current predicament at the time he scheduled this...namely Niko's presence and the fact that she was sleeping with his wife.

Oksana's waiting for Bill to tell her to step into frame, to cut the cake with Eve, or whatever else he wants them to do, when Niko goes and kisses Eve on the lips.

People start cheering and clapping. Except for her, and Bill, and Elena. They all just kind of share a look...and then they all kind of snap out of it and join the crowd, lest they stick out like sore thumbs.

Oksana watches in growing irritation as the kiss doesn't immediately end. In fact, Eve seems to be kissing _back now_. And some asshole behind her is wolf-whistling his approval. By the end of their kiss, her hands are sore from clapping so aggressively.

The moment Eve breaks apart, her eyes find Oksana's and she gives her an apologetic look, but it does nothing to quell the frothing jealousy inside. So _now_ when Bill gets Niko out of frame so that Oksana can take his place, she's less than inclined to do so. But the show must go on as some no doubt fat and ugly dumbass said once upon a time.**

She takes her spot beside Eve and then the photographer gets before them and snaps a few shots before they even do anything at all. Next, the clearly very gay woman – as evidenced by her haircut and tattooed muscular arms - has them mimic the miniatures with their prop weapons behind their backs, pleasant smiles on their faces.

After this is done with, they're told to place their arms around each others waists, and to both take the real cake knife in hand and hold that pose while more shots flash. Then she gets them to cut the cake right in-between the miniatures, like some sort of metaphorical divide, more akin to divorce. Next they take the cake and smash it into each others faces in a typical cliched wedding way. Finally, they're directed to kiss, and it takes everything in her not to look over at Niko and smirk at him right before hand.

She tries to pull a similar stunt to their previous kissing scene, but Eve refuses to play along this time and will only give her short, cursory kisses in return, just enough to get the shot, and nothing more.

With the mini-photoshoot at an end, they cut the rest of the cake up and distribute it to the cast and crew, just like if they were at an actual wedding. Oksana's pissed off again when Eve leaves her side to go over to her husband to give him a slice, and then they're eating and laughing together, so Oksana angrily shovels some in to stop herself from saying something rude.

She's even more infuriated when they kiss yet again, and _Eve_ initiates it, and it's _definitely_ hotter than what Eve just gave her. Far too hot for the likes of a boring wet rag like Niko. It's a good thing she doesn't have a _real_ knife in hand because one or both of them would've been stabbed by now in a blind rage. Eve's eyes flit to hers afterwards and she gives her another apologetic look, like it was a complete accident that her lips fell onto Niko's yet again.

As soon as Eve heads to the bathroom, Oksana heads there too. She storms in and is about to give her a piece of her mind, when she notices fucking Carolyn is here too. She's fiddling with her fucking hair – as if she even _has_ any – and Oksana is nearly ready to scream when Carolyn _finally_ gives up on her shitty limp hair. She gives them both a bit of an odd look, since they've both just been standing there like morons, but then she shrugs and leaves. Considering Konstantin liked to talk about her, Oksana wouldn't be surprised if Carolyn knew about them too. And she doesn't give a shit.

The second they're free and clear they both try to talk at the same time.

“Before you say anything-”

“What the _fuck_ was _that_ , Eve?”

Eve takes a deep breath. “I have to keep up appearances, Oksana. That's all that was,” she answers complacently.

“Was it?” She narrows her eyes. “Since when does,” she does air quotes, “'voluntarily sticking your tongue down his throat', count as keeping up appearances?”

Eve likewise narrows her eyes. “You're one to talk about something like _that,_ in a place like _this_. Or have you _already_ forgotten what you _did_?”

They face off for a heated moment, her blood boiling over, and then simultaneously they're in each others arms, kissing like there's no tomorrow. It's hot and dirty and mostly tongue and it drives her wild all the more because of that.

“Ugh, you taste like cigarettes,” she practically growls as she pushes Eve into the nearest stall and wastes no time getting to her knees.

She yanks Eve's pants and underwear down and off so viciously that she nearly tears them, then throws one of Eve's legs over her shoulder and gets to work with her tongue and mouth, enthusiastically, vigorously, and above all possessively. As long as Oksana continued to fuck Eve's brains out, she wouldn't give two shits about her nice mustached husband.

Eve's barely moving or making any noise though, which is just pissing Oksana off to no end. She knows she's doing a damn fine job, possibly some of her _best_ work right now, and Eve doesn't have the basic decency to let loose. Sure, they were in a public bathroom at work and anyone could walk in on them at any moment, but why should that stop Eve from giving her _something_?

So Oksana adds her fingers too, slips three in without ceremony and pumps her as hard and fast as she can, and now Eve's hand is in her hair, tugging painfully and she's writhing against her face and moaning periodically. She's clearly biting down on her lip or else covering her mouth in some way to muffle the sound as much as possible. And it's not enough, not nearly enough, but she really can't do anything more than she's already doing, so it will have to suffice.

And then Eve comes on her fingers and tongue faster than she ever has before, and a single solitary unfiltered moan leaks out, and Oksana drinks it up as much as the sweetish fluid pouring out of Eve for seemingly endless amounts of time. Finally they both come to a shuddering halt and the only sound is that of their combined heavy breathing.

Eve releases her death grip on her hair and shakily says, “Jesus Christ, Oksana.”

Oksana gets to her feet and presses Eve into the stall wall with a commanding come soaked kiss.

“Remember what I can do to you. Forget about your husband. Go out with me tonight instead.”

Eve glances away. “I can't.”

“Why not?” she snaps. “Why is it so imperative that you go on a fancy dinner date with _him_?”

“I need to keep up-”

“ _Appearances_ ,” finishes Oksana for her, sourly. “So I've heard. Fuck appearances, Eve. I'm tired of this sneaking around. I want to be with you openly. I want to do more than just fuck.”

Apparently she said something sweet because Eve gives her heart-eyes. It's a bit difficult to stay mad at someone looking at you that way. Which was frankly just rude.

Eve links their fingers together. “And I want that too.”

“Then what's the problem?” she grumbles.

“I'm still married.”

“So divorce him.”

“It's not that simple.”

“Well, _make_ it simple.”

Eve's eyes flash dangerously. “Or what? You'll leave me?”

Rather than respond she huffs and stomps out.

 

*

 

While they're setting up for the next scene, they both take their respective seats and look at their scripts. Or well, Eve does. It's very comical to watch Eve's face morph from indifference to horror as she realizes which scene it is. She looks over at Oksana, then her husband, then Bill, then the bedroom set, then back to Oksana, who just raises an eyebrow.

“Something the matter, Eve?” she says casually.

“Why didn't you _warn_ me?” hisses Eve.

“I knew you'd figure it out eventually,” she says, taking a great deal of pleasure in Eve's current displeasure.

“This is going to be a _disaster_ ,” groans Eve. She goes to stick her hands in her hair, then apparently thinks better of it. They've both been to impromptu hair and makeup sessions enough times over the past couple of weeks that the hairstylists and makeup artists must be getting awfully suspicious. For obvious reasons, she herself had to go not too long ago and the woman just gave her a knowing look through the mirror but otherwise said nothing.

“Well, you could just ask him to leave,” she says reasonably.

“You'd like that wouldn't you?” glares Eve.

“Of course,” she answers honestly.

“Well, I'm not going to,” says Eve stubbornly.

“Suit yourself,” says Oksana chipper as anything. “It's no skin off _my_ back. But don't come crying to me if he gets certain _ideas_ in his head.”

That seems to get through to her and Eve sighs and makes her way over to her husband, who was chatting with Bill.

Oksana holds in the laughter as Eve takes him aside and says something. He says something back which was seemingly not to Eve's liking. She gets more adamant, and then Niko frowns at her, then Oksana, then shrugs, then leaves.

Oksana wants to celebrate her little victory but puts on her most professional face instead. Eve comes back, shoots her a warning look, and opens up her script again.

 

*

Sandra sneaks into the room, gun aloft.

Jodie watches her from the shadows and then says, “Took you long enough.”

Sandra freezes at that, and the gun pressed into the back of her neck.

“Drop it,” says Jodie.

Sandra does as she's told and the gun goes clattering to the wooden floor.

“You're not an easy person to find,” says Sandra, pure hate in her voice.

“I guess that's why they sent you. If nothing else, you're a good tracker. Not the most observant person, but a good tracker.”

Sandra laughs humorously. “Oh, right, because _you're_ Mrs. Observant. You didn't know either. Don't pretend otherwise.”

“They say that love blinds you...” begins Jodie bitterly, but Sandra cuts her off.

“Don't talk to me about _love._ You're not fooling anyone. So just get it over with. Pull the trigger and spare me your platitudes.”

“I'm not going to  _kill_ you, Sandra,” says Jodie with a frown.

“Why not? You killed your target in the club. What difference does it make to you? You're a killer. It's what you do.”

“As if you've never killed anyone before.” There's silence and Jodie knows she's right. “It's part of the job description, honeybunch, we're  _all_ killers.”

Jodie pulls back the gun but the second she does, Sandra whirls on her, disarms her, and they get into a heavy handed close quarters combat fight.

Well, their stunt doubles do. 

Eve and Oksana more or less step out of frame and let the professionals work their magic. Her own stunt double is particularly badass, if she says so herself, way cooler than Eve's. Occasionally they do have to come back in for close up shots of their faces and facsimiles of certain basic moves, but all in all, their work here is very minimal.

Once the skirmish is over, with half the room in shambles, they're standing only a few feet apart, guns aimed at each others heads. They're disheveled, clothing torn and askew, a handful of bleeding cuts between them.

“You really think it was just _coincidence_ that we both ended up at the club?” She's breathing heavily here so the words come out somewhat Captain Kirk like. “Don't be naive Sandra. I think you'll find if you go high enough, we're both working for the same people.”

“That's ridiculous.”

“Frank, the target, was a nobody. I had a buddy look into him. Off the grid. Why would I be sent to eliminate some poor schmuck? Why would you be there to stop me? We're being set up. Someone wanted us to find out that we're both spies. Someone wanted _this_ to happen.”

“If that's the case, why go to all this trouble? Why not just call us in and deal with us then?”

“Too many eyes and ears at HQ. If there were a 'regrettable accident' on the job, they could deny culpability...but I got away. You were supposed to put me down on the spot. But you didn't. And you won't now either.”

“And what makes you think that?”

“Because _I_ don't want to kill you.” She swallows thickly and tries not to think too hard about the next words leaving her lips. “Because I love you. And I know you love me too.”

Eve...Sandra seems visibly affected by the words, but otherwise makes no response.

Then as a show of good faith, Jodie ejects the clip and-

Fucking hell, the stupid thing malfunctions, gets stuck half-way, then pathetically slithers out a couple of seconds later to hit the floor.

“Cuut.”

The props guy comes over and fiddles with the release mechanism, and Oksana very pointedly avoids looking at Eve after those words she just uttered. She's not sure if she's more afraid of seeing a certain something in her eyes, or _not_ seeing anything at all. Logically, she knows they're acting, but sometimes it all feels so _real_ and she has difficulty separating fact from fiction. She imagines this is a common enough occurrence for most actors...but _they_ were also involved, and _that_ added a whole other element of uncertainty to every word, every look, every touch. She knows she feels very strongly for Eve, but she's not sure she's quite there yet. Or perhaps she _does_ know she's there, but she's worried about what that means for Anna, as if what she's felt for so many years is now suddenly going to vanish without a trace the second she acknowledges her true feelings for Eve. She certainly hasn't been thinking about Anna as obsessively as she used to. She's not occupying every waking moment. She's already beginning to uproot herself from Oksana, and before long she might not have anything left. And she doesn't know who she'd be without the person who made up her whole world for more than half her life.

The gun gets placed back into her hand and then she's forced to repeat those same dangerous words again. Thankfully the clip ejects properly this time, and she's free to toss the gun aside and say much safer words.

“If you still want to shoot me, then shoot me. I won't try to stop you.”

Sandra lowers the gun but doesn't drop it. She sighs wearily, lies down on the bed. “God, I'm tired.”

Jodie joins her after a moment, kisses her forehead. “I know, baby.”

This is where the re-write happened. Originally they were supposed to just fall asleep in each others arms. But now they had to quote on quote 'make love'. Oksana wasn't exactly sure what the distinction between making love and fucking was, so she had gotten Eve to practice the scene with her a few days ago, albeit with a lot more giggling and sarcasm than was scripted, which was none.

Before the next stage of the scene begins, and after they've been properly 'outfitted', Bill takes them into his office. It's almost seven o'clock now. Oksana's not sure when Eve's dinner date is, but she imagines it must be soon.

“How are we feeling today, ladies?”

“Well, I'm marvelous, thank you for asking, Bill.”

He looks over to Eve. “Great,” says Eve in a nervous manner.

“Just remember to keep this _professional_.”

“Ah darn,” she says snapping her fingers, “I was hoping to make a porno today. Surprisingly one of the few things I _haven't_ done yet.”

Bill rolls his eyes and responds with, “Just...do your jobs.” He points a finger at her in particular. “And  _ nothing _ more. I don't want another kissing scene fiasco. Let's get this over and done with as quickly as possible. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” says Eve promptly.

Bill gives her a sharp look. 

“Agreed,” she answers sweetly.

*

 

The crew has been thinned down to only the essentials, they're only in partial lighting, so it's the most intimate working situation they've found themselves in yet. If it wasn't for the cameras, she might even momentarily forget that they're not supposed to actually fuck.

Even though Oksana has zero qualms about getting naked in public, she still finds these kinds of scenes a bit awkward. She can only imagine how much worse it is for more private individuals.

“Hey, you got this,” she tells Eve, touching her face before they start. “I'm right here. Just focus on me.”

That seems to snap Eve out of her nervous daze.

The cameras roll and Jodie kisses Sandra. What starts out slow and steady quickly builds in intensity until they're both shedding their clothing and getting completely nude. Well, as nude as one ever does in these sorts of set ups. They've both got flesh coloured pasties and merkins in place. The pasties prevent any accidental brustwarze flashing if the camera angles aren't quite right. It was lame as fuck in Oksana's opinion that they couldn't even show their damn nipples in this film. Eve probably appreciates the coverage though as she's never shown her tata's fully on film.***

Technically, sex scenes were like any other scene and they were supposed to be scripted down to the last detail. But Bill is just letting them roll with it. He probably figures they know what to do. In other films she's been constantly coached, down to the way her ass was angled. Hardly sexy.

She hasn't done too many scenes like this before and only one with another woman, but she can safely say that this one is the most frustrating one. Even though she rubbed one out in her trailer after the surprise bathroom sex, she's quickly getting riled up again. The more she gets into this, the more she wants to _actually_ fuck Eve, but of course she's not allowed to, and even if she tried, there were certain obstacles fairly secured in place. 

If they were filming this under the covers she might have possibly somehow managed to get away with being naughty, but as it is, all she can really do is get more and more turned on until Bill finally yells cut.

There's absolute silence afterwards, well even more so than during. Awkward silences don't bother her, but they bother Eve apparently because she's subtly fidgeting underneath her waiting for someone to say something.

Bill clears his throat. “I think we got everything we needed.”

Oksana and Eve share a surprised look.

One take? They've literally never done anything in one take. Not even the club scene that they were supposed to have perfected in advance. And oh...that explains why it's so quiet now. 

They were a little _too_ convincing.

A little _too_ familiar with each other.

Eve seems to have come to the same realization because now she appears on the verge of a panic attack again like when they were in the elevator. And despite still being pissed off at Eve, she's not in the mood to exacerbate the issue this time. It was her birthday after all.

“So we're done for the day?” she asks Bill.

“Yes, we're done for the day,” says Bill, a bit of an odd look across his face.

Because of their positions, Oksana gets off the bed first and grabs their waiting robes from a chair just out of frame. She hands one to Eve first, then sticks her own on.

“Come on then, Eve,” she says gently and gets her out of the bed.

Eve takes her hand and they walk off set together, all the while she feels the crews eyes on them and the rigidity of Eve beside her.

She leads Eve into her trailer and sits her down in the same seat she messed with her all those weeks ago playing Flappy Bird.

“This is bad. Very bad. Very very bad.”

Oksana kneels before her, takes her hand. “Hey, it's going to be okay. Just because it was convincing doesn't mean anyone suspects anything.”

Eve gives her a wide-eyed, terror filled look.

“I have to go to dinner with my husband!” she announces and gets up, similar to how she was behaving the night they hooked up for the second time.

“Eve, you don't have to do that if you're not up for it...you could just come back to the hotel with me and watch a movie instead...”

“No, I _have_ to do this! He'll know if I don't!”

Eve leaves without another word and Oksana is once again mystified by her strange behaviour. There's something else going on with her, and it's high time she got down to the bottom of it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Okay, this may be more of a personal opinion...but outside of The Sound of Music I've basically never liked any musicals in movie format...
> 
> **Every time I read that line while editing I burst into laughter. Dunno if it's even funny...maybe more unexpected. 
> 
> ***This was also stupid but it kept making me laugh so I left it in
> 
> I kept imagining O using her fake British accent in the elevator. Guess it's cuz she's always British when she's chipper on the show.
> 
> I'm loling at the fact that Bill scheduled the sex scene for her birthday. He probably did it originally as a joke...but that blew up in his face xD  
> Merkin sounded a lot more whimsical than 'genital guard', so I went with that, even though a merkin wouldn't be what they would've used in this instance...unless it's also a colloquial term, which I'm not sure about. It was a bit difficult to research this particular topic. The only real consensus was that almost everyone finds it awkward af...all the more so because these types of scenes are usually done first thing in filming so that the actors don't have a chance to back out of their contract...
> 
> The photoshoot probably doesn't make sense to put in here but it's done and you'll just have to deal with it
> 
> I think this film is going to be Rated R despite Bill's best efforts....because lesbian activity. Unless of course they just cut the scene altogether...Also, apparently the ratings for films comes from literally only EIGHT randomly selected PARENTS from some secret society with NO TRAINING. That explains so much actually. Why some films seem to have a much lower rating than I would've expected and vice versa.
> 
> Also I can't believe it took me three watches to realize that V is late to her date with her playmate because she went to Eve's house to drop off the luggage at the front door...which means she went there twice within a 24 hour period...but I still wonder if she also broke in then as well out of simple curiousity/to steal something because she didn't KNOW she was going to end up having to go back there for Frank's location...or perhaps she was always planning to regardless just to see if Eve would wear any of it? XD 
> 
> Anyway...I definitely need to shut up now. Come scream at me or something.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow episode 5 was something. Can't believe it's over again in 3 weeks. Feels like we just started the season.
> 
> As for GoT...all I can say is, I'm glad there's only 2 weeks remaining.
> 
> Anyway, lots of shit going down in this one. Enjoy the insanity!

Like she's playing one of her characters, she follows - not stalks – Eve.

The only disguise she has on hand are some pink leggings and a black sports bra, her at work exercise attire. Both Adidas. Both courtesy of her briefly lived brand deal. They dropped her because she supposedly made a controversial statement about Brexit that got completely blown out of proportion, not unlike a 'real world' prop that the current reigning TV juggernaut, Game of Thorns somehow forgot to edit out. In her opinion, people took things way too seriously these days. 

She ties back her hair into a ponytail and adds tortoise shell cat eyed Bvlgari sunglasses for good measure. She could attempt to borrow – not steal – something from the wardrobe department, but the head Costume Designer Charlotte never seemed to leave, and Oksana didn't feel like having to bullshit an excuse right now. Plus, Charlotte was somewhat scary (not that Oksana would ever admit it).

Eve goes to her own trailer for awhile, then comes out dressed to impress in an elegant, but no doubt expensive blue evening dress. Her hair is down and fabulous, lipstick immaculately in place. She's gorgeous, and Oksana is ticked off that this is all for Niko's benefit. They're dressed at complete odds to one another, which is kind of how she feels right now with Eve rushing off to enjoy the company of someone else.

Eve gets into her ride and Oksana gets into hers and tells her driver to follow her.

He gives her a look but then just does as she says.

Oksana makes him hang back a bit. Everyone knew you couldn't exactly be inconspicuous if you were tailgating. Not that Eve would notice a damn thing in her state. They could probably rear-end her car and she would barely react. But the _driver_ wasn't blind, so they needed to keep away as much as possible.

Traffic is a bit heavy now. Heavier than it usually is when she's off work, so they end up stopping and going a lot which is extra annoying to Oksana. If she were on her motorcycle and not following someone, she would have found a way to bypass this mess.

Eve gets to where she's going – a predictably upscale looking Italian restaurant; how boring, she would have chosen something a lot more unique - and exits the vehicle.

“Keep driving,” she tells her driver and he goes until she makes him stop near the end of the block.

“Stay here,” she says and also gets out.

She walks back towards where Eve is, waiting outside of said boring restaurant. When Eve looks across the street in her direction, Oksana makes a show of doing some stretches against a bench, like she's getting ready to go on a jog.

It's a handful of minutes later before Niko arrives. He gives her a once over and apparently says something witty because Eve laughs. Then he opens the door for her and they head in.

The windows are fairly large and inviting and allow her a decent view of the inside. However, it doesn't do her much good.

She doesn't have any of the fancy spy gear she needs to see or hear what they're saying to each other. She has no binoculars and she can't read their lips. In fact, with her sunglasses on, and the rapidly fading light, she can barely even _see_ them anymore.

But if she takes off her over-sized sunglasses she might get recognized, and that would cause a whole host of other problems. As time goes by, she assumes the strange looks she's getting have to do with the fact that she's been standing there stretching for ages and she's still wearing sunglasses in the dark.

My God, stakeouts were boring. Or at least, her unsuspecting prey were being very boring. All that's been happening is they've been eating and drinking and laughing. The highlight of the night was when one timid girl came up with her mother to get a picture with Eve. Niko seemed a bit pissed off at being interrupted but Eve was perfectly lovely and took several photos with the girl. Then she gave her a hug and went back to their dinner.

After about an hour of this, she decides it's time to leave. She's not sure what she expected would happen when she followed Eve here, but it's been a complete waste of time. She should've used this opportunity to snoop through Eve's things in her hotel room. But she just couldn't pass up the chance to watch Eve in that dress, enjoying her birthday meal...without her. Her therapist _did_ say she was a glutton for punishment. That's why she kept holding on to Anna, and why she had kept fucking strangers even knowing it never brought her any real satisfaction. And just generally repeating the same self-destructive behaviours that she had since she was a teenager. They had been working on getting down to the bottom of this, the root cause, but so far there had been no major breakthroughs.

Oksana's about to go when something _does_ catch her eye.

Eve's got her phone in hand, and she's frozen like a statue. Niko comes around and looks over her shoulder. Then he too freezes like a statue. He says something to her. She doesn't respond. In a huff, he heads outside and pulls a pack of cigarettes from his jacket. He puffs vigorously on one, then shortly thereafter Eve appears. She touches his arm and he pulls away. Niko paces a bit then turns back to Eve. He says something in animated language that Oksana can almost make out across the street but not quite. There's still enough traffic noise in the not so distant distance to cover it up.

Whatever it is seems to freak Eve the hell out and she starts pleading with him, touching his chest, face. Eventually he has enough and grabs her by the arms. He shakes her and yells something in her face that sounds an awful lot like 'bitch'.

Oksana doesn't even remember moving. But she's so angry that Niko is manhandling Eve - on her birthday! - so she swoops in without thought. She roughly yanks him off of Eve and then punches him as hard as she can.

He staggers, nearly falls down, but not quite, which is even more enraging.

Just like when she punched the wall, she swears a couple seconds later, cradling her hand.

Villanelle would've easily decked him, and wouldn't have even flinched doing so.

Things really weren't like how they were in the movies.

Eve looks at her in confusion, then clues into who she is, then becomes even more terrified. Which was frankly a little hard on a girls self-esteem. Eve was supposed to be grateful for her intervention, not afraid of her and definitely not checking in on Niko, who is holding his jaw, working it too and fro.

He looks between them, throwing daggers, and venomously says, “You deserve each other,” then takes off.

Eve whirls on her a moment later. She hits her in the chest, knocking her back a pace. “You just made everything a million times worse!” she screams.

Eve starts hyperventilating and then her eyes roll back into her head and she promptly faints. Oksana manages to catch her right before she hits the sidewalk.

It's only after all of the hullabaloo has transpired that she notices the small crowd around them, both inside and outside of the restaurant, most with their phones out and pointed straight at them.

For fucks sake. Guess the cats out of the bag now.

That was the least of her concerns. She ignores everyone, scoops Eve up into her arms and walks down the block towards where her driver is still waiting. She's completely out of breath by the time she gets there, basically dropping Eve because her arms are so tired. And Eve only weighs like a hundred pounds. Goddamn she needed to stop skipping her workouts.

The driver is not completely useless and he's hopped out of the car and opening the door for her so that she can place Eve in the back seat.

“Hospital, or-” he asks as he reclaims the drivers seat.

“Hotel.”

“Hotel it is.”

She cradles Eve's head in her lap, restraining the urge to slap her a few times. And since she doesn't have smelling salts on hand she has no choice but to wait this out. It's okay though because it affords her the chance to stroke Eve's face and hair and just really take in her appearance without Eve getting self conscience and turning away.

Her driver almost never speaks to her – because she told him to shut up the first day she used his services after Konstantin banished her from driving herself - but suddenly he's chatty.

“What's wrong with her?”

“She just fainted, that's all.”

He nods in the rear view mirror and Oksana assumes that's it.

But a few minutes later, “You following her...taking her like that...is this legal? Or am I aiding and abetting a felony-”

“A little late to be asking those questions, don't you think? Why don't you just stick to what you're paid to do and mind your own damn business? Clearly _thinking_ isn't your strong suit.”

“You know, you don't have to be so mean to me. I have feelings too.”

And Dear God, was he about to cry?

She _really_ didn't want to listen to a grown man cry.

“Look, I'm _sure_ you're not stupid. I'm just upset.”

“Why are you upset, Miss Astankova?”

“Because...what's your name again?”

“Huldiberaht,” he says sounding upset again that she didn't remember. And she didn't remember because it was a stupid fucking name.

Oksana does her utmost not to roll her eyes. “Because Huldiberaht, Eve is very important to me and I don't like seeing her hurt.”

“Why is she important to you?”

What the fuck? Suddenly he's her therapist.

“Because...”

“Because, why?”

“She just is,” Oksana snaps.

Huldiberaht nods sagely. “I was in love with an older woman once too.”

“I'm not _in love_ with her,” glares Oksana back.

“I was also in denial.”

“No one asked for your unsolicited comments. So why don't we go back to our previous arrangement where you shut your stupid mouth and don't talk to me. Better yet do the whole world a favour and cut your fat tongue out and shove it down the garburator where it belongs.”

“There you go again being mean for no reason,” he says, voice quavering.

Oksana sighs in a long suffering way and drags a hand down her face. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean it.” She pauses a moment. “Tell me about this older woman, Huldiberaht.”

His eyes light up. “Well, I met her at the nursing home I worked at before this gig. We got along really well. She was always complimenting me on my looks and I would always reciprocate. We flirted all the time, making everyone else jealous. She's the one who asked me out for the first time, and even though I knew it was unprofessional to date someone I worked so closely with, I accepted. Things were going really well for awhile until her family caught wind. Apparently they had a problem with me courting her, on account of the dementia-”

“Wait, a second, this woman was a _resident_ at the nursing home? Are you fucking with me, Huldiberaht?”

She really hopes that's the case because otherwise she's got a complete weirdo driving her around...which would possibly account for why he was fine with stalking Eve...

She sees crinkles around his eyes and Oksana shakes her head. Despite herself she can't help but to smile a bit too. “You're a dick.”

“No, more than you, _boss_.” They come to a stop at a red light and he turns to face her. “What did you think of my audition tape?”

“What?”

“I want to become an actor myself. Was I convincing enough?”

“Yes, you were excellent.”

He fooled her didn't he? Difficult to do. Then again, she's only been paying half attention and couldn't see much more than his eyes, but still. The fact that she hadn't immediately realized he was bullshitting her this whole time meant he must have _some_ acting chops.

He beams at her with a brilliant set of white teeth.

They arrive at the hotel soon thereafter. Huldiberaht goes down into the underground parking and pulls right up to the elevator. When he gets out to help her with Eve, she decides right then and there that she likes him, and she's going to see if she can get him a small role in something. But some other day. If she remembers. Which she probably won't.

As they take the elevator up, Eve in Huldiberaht's arms this time, she really takes stock of him for the first time and notices that he's fucking hot.

“What?” he says, self-consciously as she stares. “Is there something on my face?”

“No. I just realized that you're _very_ attractive.”

Hulidberaht blushes shyly at the compliment. “Oh. Well...that's nice of you to say, Miss Astankova. You're not so bad yourself,” he says awkwardly, avoiding eye contact.

“Are you seeing anyone, Huldiberaht?” she asks conversationally.

“Oh, um...not at the moment.”

“Do you _want_ to be?” she says, running a hand along her exposed abdomen. She doesn't have a six-pack by any means, but it's still nice and flat...or flattish.

He stares for a moment where she's directed his gaze and then looks back into her eyes.

“Why? Are you offering?” he jokes nervously.

“Maybe,” she says, hitting him with a smoldering look.

His eyes go wide at that and he gapes like a fish. “Oh...that's um...very flattering...but um, what about,” he looks down at Eve, “ _her_...and um...”

Oksana can't do it anymore. She bursts into cackling laughter.

His shoulders sag in relief. “I nearly had a heart attack.”

“Serves you right for fucking with me, Huldiberaht,” she says slapping him on the back.

They reach her floor and get Eve into Oksana's room. For all she knows Niko will show up again. Better safe than sorry. Plus, her hand is still sore, and she'd rather avoid punching anything else if at all possible.

He goes to stick her on the bed but she stops him with, “Put her in the tub.”

Huldiberaht stares at her a moment, then goes to do so and then just stands there awkwardly, staring at the unconscious woman. “I'm still not sure how I feel about this-”

She glares at him and he skedaddles.

“Okay, Eve, time to wake up,” she mutters to herself and turns on the water.

Instantaneously, Eve splutters to alertness. She chokes and Oksana quickly turns off the water. The last thing she wants to do is waterboard Eve. Unless of course she is in to it, but Oksana didn't think so.

Eve grips both sides of the tub, disturbed by her change in surroundings. Then she makes eyes on a kneeling Oksana and relaxes a bit.

She pushes herself into a sitting position, gets some errant wet hair out of her face. “What happened?”

“You fainted.”

“So you brought me back to the hotel and stuck me in the tub?” frowns Eve in confusion.

“It was either that or slapping you,” shrugs Oksana. “And I _know_ how much you enjoy that, Eve, _but_ -”

Eve shoves her shoulder and Oksana smiles.

She strokes the side of her face. “Now, are you going to tell me what that was all about?”

Immediately Eve turns away, clams up.

Oksana tenses too. “Fine. I'll be outside when you're ready to talk.” She stands and wags a finger at her. “But you're _not_ getting off the hook this time. I'm tired of being kept in the dark.” Before she exits the bathroom she adds, “You look very sexy in that dress, Eve. Happy birthday.”

While she waits for Eve to collect herself, Oksana turns on her phone and sees that there's a shit ton of notifications. That's never a good sign.

A bunch of people, but most of all Konstantin, have been trying to reach her. She clicks on Konstantin's text message thread and the link he shared.

Unsurprisingly, it takes her to some video footage of the altercation outside of the restaurant. The lighting was poor, and the idiot filmed vertically, but she thinks she looks damn good. 

_Oof, that sucker punch looks painful,_ she thinks giddily. She hopes someone adds dramatic music and slo-mo's it later to make it more epic (she also hopes they edit out the part where she's cradling her hand). Oksana can only imagine the shit ton of memes and reaction gifs people are going to make from this eventful clip. And she can't wait.

But she supposes she's missing the point. This was a serious matter. She's been caught on film assaulting a man. And not just any man, but Eve's husband. He could easily press charges and she could easily be making another trip down to Precinct 63.

'What the hell is going on?' demands Konstantin in the last message.

'When I know. You'll know' she responds.

'What the hell does _that_ mean, Oksana?' he texts back almost instantly.

When she doesn't answer he tries to phone her instead, but she doesn't pick up.

She reads the comments underneath the Youtube video.

'OMG. ITS HAPENING. EVANA IS RISING ' says the first comment with over four hundred likes. For fucks sake, this was posted less than an hour ago.

The next one was, 'Is this real life? Or is this just fantasy? #Yastankova'

'Ha. Niko's such a tool. He deserved it. Way to protect your girl, Oksana! Your the best!'

“Thank you,” she says out loud. She thinks she could be good friends with... _Cunt C_ _hocula._

Or maybe not.

Another said, 'As much as I shipped them, I can't believe you guys are okay with this. Eve's clearly been cheating on her husband. As a Christian-'

Oksana loses interest really quickly and moves on.

Oksaneve. Astayang. Villaneve.

Wtf. That one wasn't even _her_ , but her character. Ugh.

Clearly there wasn't a consensus on what their ship name should be. Personally, she liked Evana the most. It was the least hideous looking and sounding.

One a bit further down was, 'First those hot as fuck photographs and now this??? #Best day ever #Blessed.'

Wait, what? What photographs?

Oksana looks through her earlier notifications and stops scrolling when she sees another curious one from Twitter.

She sits bolt upright when she sees what it is.

It's a photograph of her and Eve in bed together.

She's flat on her back, Eve is straddling her waist and Oksana's looking up at her, hands on her hips. The shot is from behind Eve, but angled just enough to see some side boob.

There's a second photo too, from a slightly different angle. Eve is stretched out on top of her, her profile just visible. Oksana's hands are in her hair and they're kissing of course.

But this is impossible. They've been too discrete - well discrete _enough_ \- for this to have happened.

Once she takes it in more though, she realizes they're fakes. Or more specifically, photographs from set. They have to be, there's no other explanation for the HD clarity.

Some bastard discreetly took pictures of them, and then leaked them, no doubt for a profit.

For fucks sake. It's been less than three hours since they filmed that.

Sometimes she wants to burn the internet to the ground.

She has to admit though, they're damn convincing shots, easily mistaken for the real deal. If this is what the crew saw, no wonder they were so weirdly silent.

When she blows up the first photo a bit, zooms in on her face, she confirms her suspicions when she sees the cut running across her cheek bone. But beyond that, she's more than a little taken aback by how she's looking at Eve in this particular shot. She's looking at her with lust, yes, but something more. She looks like she's, for lack of a better phrase, _in love_ with her. Oksana tosses the phone away from her like she's been burned, her heart pounding. Then, as if she can't control her motor functions, she picks it up again and looks at what others have said here. Maybe she's seeing things?

Unfortunately, they seem to be of the same vein as her initial assessment. 

The fact that both Eve and herself have been radio silent on this hasn't exactly helped to un-delude the masses of gullible and hormonal teenagers. Bill has commented though, explaining what they're from, and also demanding that Twitter takes them down. He then makes a second post, tagging seven or so people - the crew that was present - calling them out.

'Whichever one of you did this,' Bill tweeted over an hour ago, 'you're fired. I _will_ get down to the bottom of this. And I _will_ sue you.'

It didn't take a genius to figure out that one or both of these photographs must've been what Eve and then Niko saw during their dinner.

Oksana puts her phone down and goes back into the bathroom.

She finds Eve still in the tub, legs drawn up to her chest, shivering.

Beyond that, she seems to be totally catatonic, eyes straight ahead, unseeing.

She kneels down beside her again, touches her shoulder.

There's no response.

“I saw the photographs. Is that why you freaked out?”

There's the tiniest nod. Progress.

In this particular instance she doesn't want to be the bearer of bad news. “Eve, they weren't real. They were from the set.”

If possible, Eve gets even more still and lifeless, barely breathing.

“I thought...”

She waits as patiently as she can for Eve to finish her thought and then says, “I don't like seeing you like this. You didn't do anything wrong-”

“Innocent people don't get blackmailed, Oksana.”

That stops her in her tracks. She can honestly say she wasn't expecting Eve to speak again, let alone say that particular string of words. “What are you talking about?”

“The same night that cop posted those fake charges against you. Someone phoned here and said they knew about us. That they had footage to prove it. From the hallways.”

Well, that explained a lot.

“So that's why you were acting so strangely?”

Eve nods minutely, eyes still staring at the wall.

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because...I figured you wouldn't exactly be subtle in trying to deal with it.”

“Eve, I have plenty of experience dealing with these sorts of people. You should have come to me sooner. I could've dealt with it discreetly.”

“How? Because it seems to me like more of your indiscretions get out than not. I didn't want you poking the bear and making him angry.”

“So it's a man then?” It's usually a man. “Have you heard from him again?”

Eve shakes her head.

“Okay, let's get you out of here and warmed up,” she says, attempting to lift her up and failing.

Eve is very resistant to moving, almost like she's somehow welded herself to the tub, or gained fifty pounds of water weight.

“You don't get it.”

“What don't I get?”

“I can't tell you.”

“You can tell me anything.”

And she's surprised to realize that it's true. Eve could tell her anything and she'd listen just as attentively as she ever did with Anna. Which perhaps wasn't saying all that much, but still...she doesn't want to know right now because of simple curiosity. She wants to know so that she can help Eve in whatever way possible.

“Not this...”

She trails off for so long that Oksana starts to get up but then-

“It's Niko.”

Oksana's getting very tired of hearing that name.

“What about him?” she asks, settling back down once more.

“He has stuff on me too. Now that he knows about us...he'll leak that stuff for sure.”

“What sort of stuff? It can't be _that_ bad, Eve,” she says slightly exasperated at her lack of response. “Not compared to some of the things _I've_ done.”

There's another very long pause in which she doesn't think Eve will speak but then-

“I killed someone.”

Once again Eve's said something she never expected.

Oksana has no idea what to do with that.

“You killed someone?” she prompts, as if it's a totally normal thing to be casually discussing with your girlfriend on her birthday while she sits in the tub.

“It was a long time ago. Right before I got my big break on _Wild Anatomy_. My father had just died. I was distraught. I went for a drive to clear my head. It was dark. I hit someone. An overzealous hitchhiker. I swear they practically threw themselves at my car. The worst part is that he didn't die right away. If I had checked, I could have gotten him to the hospital...maybe saved his life. But I was afraid so I didn't even get out of the car...I told Niko about it one drunken night after we were married.”

So that also explained why Eve was so hysterical when she thought Oksana had done the same thing.

“He doesn't have any proof though, Eve,” she says, trying to appease her.

“The police will look into it. They'll find something. I'll go to jail for the rest of my life. I deserve to. I'm a terrible person.”

Then she starts crying and Oksana can't stand to see her like that so she gets in the tub too, behind Eve, and holds her as she so often seemed to these days. Eve is freezing and Oksana hopes her additional heat can warm her up a bit. She rubs her arms for awhile to get the blood flowing.

“You're not a terrible person,” she assures her. With little hesitation she adds, “I killed someone too, Eve.”

“You...you what?” says Eve, shocked out of her despair.

“When I was twenty-one. There was an after party. One of the men had a bit too much to drink. He cornered me. Tried to...I knocked his head into the wall. He didn't wake up.”

It doesn't bother her to talk about this, not really. It probably should, but she's almost proud of her actions.

“How come I never heard about this?”

“I called Konstantin,” she shrugs. “He took care of it.”

Eve's freezing hand encloses around hers. “I'm so sorry that happened to you, Oksana.”

“Me too.”

The heavy moment settles for some time, but then Eve shakes her head, balls up further again. “But you killed in self defense. I killed out of negligence...and cowardice. It's not the same thing.”

Oksana feels like she needs to say something else. She's never told anyone this in her entire life. Not Konstantin. Not her therapist. Not even Anna. She can barely admit it to herself.

“I killed my father.”

There's a bit of a delayed response. “That was an accident, Oksana. They-”

“They said it was a malfunction. But I know the truth. I was bored of helping him do the same tricks over and over again. Night after night. I wanted to go out and have some fun with this girl called Nadia. So I didn't bother checking the gun properly like I was supposed to before every show. There must have been some debris left over from the actual bullets. So when his other assistant pulled the trigger...”

And now she's having trouble formulating words. She doesn't often feel genuinely guilty, but this is one of those times, almost prohibitively so.

She closes her eyes, wills herself not to tear up, to start crying herself.

“I was busy clumsily fucking that girl for the first time while my father was bleeding out on stage. I suppose I should consider myself lucky. If I hadn't bailed last minute it would have been _me_ who pulled the trigger. I would have shot him dead myself. I practically did though anyway.”

“You shouldn't blame yourself. You were a child.”

“I was fifteen. I should have taken him more seriously. My father was very old school. Didn't believe in all of the modern day safety nets. I knew how cursed this trick was, how many magicians had died over the years, but I didn't care. I didn't heed his warnings. I didn't do my job. I just wanted to get laid.”

After that...incident, she had gone back to Russia to live with Konstantin and his then family. His fat wife and their annoying four year old daughter, Irina. Konstantin had been like a brother to her father. He spent too much time with her (as she reminded him of her father) and as a consequence lost his own family. His wife divorced him, took the kid and he barely ever sees her. Apparently she's some sort of burgeoning stand up comic now, had come in second place on Minuta Slavy, A Got Talent rip-off. Oksana's not surprised. She almost always had a snarky comeback, even back then. Even now probably, in this somber situation. The little brat.

But the most intolerable thing had been being separated from Anna. Her father had been the main attraction, and when he died, the traveling troupe of magicians quickly went under. Anna had been seeing one of them for years, so she had traveled around with them, making enough to get by by teaching the local children, herself included. Her father had insisted she get a proper education at a proper school, but she refused to be parted from the both of them, but Anna especially, and so Anna had become her personal teacher of all manner of things. Math, history, philosophy...but especially languages. Anna had an amazing ear for them and she had bestowed that knowledge onto her. As well as her love of film.

Oksana was a natural born showman. After all, she had learned from The Greatest Showman On Earth. She decided to seriously pursue acting when she was finishing off high school – which had been very boring without Anna, nearly intolerable really – and the rest was history. Less than two years later she had nabbed her most iconic role to date.

And now here she was in a bathtub with a woman she might possibly be in love with, spilling her guts out because she can't seem to help herself.

“Come on then, get up,” says Eve, tapping her hand a few times.

It's a bit difficult but they manage to get out together simultaneously, never completely letting go of the other.

Eve attempts to slip out of her dress, but can't quite manage on account of the fabric clinging to her body. Oksana helps her, then watches as Eve goes and dons some of her clothing, a sweater and some sweatpants, but still...she's enthralled all the same, and goes to mimic her action with a similar set of warm and comfortable clothing.

Eve takes her hand and leads her into bed. They wrap each other up in their shared warmth, her head resting on Eve's chest.

“I'm sorry I ruined your birthday,” she says, genuinely meaning it.

Eve strokes her scalp in a soothing way. “You didn't ruin my birthday. It was inevitable that this was getting out.” She sighs deeply. “It's my own fault for ever thinking otherwise.”

“Don't worry, Eve. We'll figure this out.” Oksana clings to her tighter. “I won't let Niko ruin us. I'll talk to him. Make him see reason.”

“Would you stay out of this if I asked you to? Let me handle this?”

“I can't do _nothing_ , Eve,” she says, getting riled up by Eve's blasé attitude. Whether or not the cops ended up getting involved, if Niko said _anything_ , there'd forever be a shadow over Eve's head. Oksana knows this better than most. Besides, knowing Eve's guilty conscience, she would most likely confess at the first accusation and be charged with manslaughter, a felony punishable for up to ten years.

“You can and you will. Consider it my birthday present.” Eve grips her by the chin, looks her dead in the eyes. “Promise me you'll stay out of this.”

It takes everything in her to force the words out. “I promise.”

“Thank you,” says Eve, giving her a brief kiss.

A couple hours later when Eve is sound asleep, Oksana carefully disentangles herself and gets out of the bed.

She quietly fumbles for her phone in the dark and when she finds it, takes it into the bathroom to make a call.

He picks up promptly.

“I need a favour."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The favour is obviously that she wants some din din for her tum tum
> 
> Don't know if you can tell, but I added that first part last minute lol. Also, I'm pretty sure Oksana would've publicly burned anything Adidas gave her out of spite...but anyway...
> 
> Yes, I know fainting spells don't last remotely that long...E was more like knocked unconscious here...but just don't think about it too hard, okay? Call it creative license, which I use far too frequently to justify my leaps of logic, while simultaneously complaining about in other people's things. :p
> 
> Leave it to these two freaks to bond over shared tales of murder. Warms the heart it does. XD Was anyone actually surprised that she had killed someone? This IS the Killing Eve fandom after all...and for all we know show Eve has also killed someone in the past. So now unfortunately I won't be using the phrase 'dirty laundry' anymore. I know a certain someone reading this will be devastated, but too bad you big meanie.
> 
> I guess the photos being leaked is a bit of subconscious shade towards people who go posting spoilery photos of the show before the episode has even aired, and don't even bother to tag them properly. I'm only realizing this in hindsight...since it happened to me again with the last episode...but this was written before that. Here's hoping I can watch the last three completely in the dark.
> 
> It took me FOREVER to come up with a not totally terrible ship name for them because she's NOT Villanelle here. And when I say forever I mean more than five minutes.
> 
> But this chapter took me FOREVER to write...and I mean more than a whole week. I was going bonkers with it. So it might be a bit more bonkers than usual.
> 
> I don't know where the Huldiberaht stuff came from...it just happened. You can thank Konstantin I guess. Kind of reminds me of the parrot thing from my Thinking of You fic actually lmao
> 
> And if there's any grammar/spelling mistakes in the YT comments, those were intentional. It really hurt me to use the wrong version of 'your' though...
> 
> Now this is a very serious question: Do you think Chocula was the first official combination name? The cereals' been around since the early 70s. I always thought this was a much more recent habit of the past like 20 years or so, not since shortly after the moon landing lol


	14. Chapter 14

Insistent shoulder shaking finally rouses her out of her blissfully deep slumber. She crankily tells Oksana to stop it, but when there's no response, she opens her eyes and realizes that Oksana is gone.

In her place is Konstantin.

Both of these occurrences serve to startle her a great deal and she forces her exhausted mind to wake up.

Konstantin looms over her, shrouded in darkness like the spectre of death.

Dread clutches at her heart.

“What's happened?” she says breathlessly, as if she's afraid of the answer.

“You need to come with me right now, Eve,” says Konstantin seriously.

Which of course does absolutely nothing to relieve her anxiety.

He holds out a pair of her own shoes, from her own hotel room.

Rather than question how he got inside, she simply takes them and shoves them on, half stumbling out of bed shortly thereafter. Konstantin easily steadies her and then directs her out of the room and towards the elevator.

“Where are we going?”

Konstantin is silent a moment and then turns and says, “The hospital.”

Her worst fears are coming true.

“What's happened?” she asks again, this time more desperately, clutching at his arm.

Once more it seems like he's going to ignore this question but this time he sighs wearily and says, “Your husband's been stabbed.”

Eve was expecting something bad...but definitely not _that_.

She staggers again and Konstantin steadies again.

Eve's not sure she can get these next words out. “Did she...please tell me she didn't...”

“It _wasn't_ Oksana,” says Konstantin, unburdening her mind greatly.

That's one weight off her chest.

“But then where is she?”

“At the precinct, giving a statement. She asked me to come get you after the hospital staff failed to reach you.”

“I don't understand...”

Konstantin rubs at his tired, scruffy face, then pushes the down button of the elevator.

“I don't know much more than that, Eve, I'm sorry. I'm afraid you'll just have to wait a little longer to learn more.”

It's the middle of the night so the elevator dings within seconds of pressing the button.

They're nearly at the main floor before she clues in that she hadn't even asked how Niko was doing...her primary concern had been only for Oksana's well being.

They've barely started driving there before Konstantin is popping open the glove compartment, grabbing a hotel sized container of vodka and downing the whole thing in one go. Eve decides to join him and by the time they arrive, she's considerably more at ease and ready to deal with whatever they have to tell her.

Shakily she makes her way to the admittance desk. Before she can do more than open her mouth the nurse says, “Just take a seat over there, Ms. Yang, the doctor will be with you shortly.”

Konstantin leads her to the waiting area. She sits and fidgets in place, plays with a loose thread of Oksana's sweater. She wishes Oksana were here with her, if only so she could find out what the hell was going on. Or perhaps to smack her for going off in the middle of the night to do God knows what even after Eve told her to leave it be.

“I wish I had another drink,” mutters Eve, to which Konstantin barks out a laugh.

“Yes, Oksana has that effect on people,” he says in annoyingly good spirits. He pats her knee once. “You'll get used to it.”

“Being an alcoholic?”

Konstantin laughs even louder, this time drawing attention from numerous somber faced individuals, all waiting on news of their own loved ones.

“She said you were funny. Now I know why.”

“Don't you ever get tired of cleaning up her messes?”

“Every single day.”

“Then why-”

“We are family.”

“I don't recall reading anything about that.”

“Not blood family, but family regardless. She lived with me for some years after her father died. She's my Goddaughter...but I consider her to be my actual daughter.”

It's vaguely familiar now that he's mentioned it.

_God, I'm tired,_ she thinks and then rubs at her face vigorously.

“No offense, but you did a really shitty job raising her.”

Konstantin barks out yet another laugh and this time a stern looking grandma shushes them.

“No offense taken,” he says, still in an irritatingly chipper mood.

“Did Oksana _really_ not do it? Or are you just trying to spare me?”

He looks her straight in the eye, serious once more. “She didn't do it.”

“But _how_ do you know for _sure_? You said you didn't know much.” Her eyes widen as she comes to a certain conclusion. “Wait, is _she_ the one who told you she didn't do it?”

Konstantin gives her a stone faced look that all but confirms her suspicions. These two were thick as thieves, with a tie as strong as, if not stronger than blood. He would support her and defend her actions, no matter how heinous, until his dying breath.

“Jesus Christ, Konstantin,” she groans. “I can't _believe_ you took her at her word!”

“She wouldn't do this,” he reiterates stubbornly.

“Of course she would!” laments Eve. “It's _exactly_ the sort of thing she would do.”

“If Oksana had done this, you would not be here right now and she would not be giving a statement.”

“Why? Because _you_ would've helped her cover it up? Like last time?”

Konstantin gives her a sharp look. “She told you about that?”

“She told me a _lot_ of things,” says Eve, feeling smug all of a sudden, which was so stupid and inappropriate given their current locale and the subject matter. The alcohol clearly hadn't completely dissipated from her system yet.

Konstantin's eyes widen. “She told you about her father _too_?”

And come _on_ , huffs Eve internally. Couldn't she have just had that _one_?

“You knew about that?” she grumbles, mood foul once more.

“Of course I knew,” scoffs Konstantin, like he thinks he's _so_ superior.

Like he thinks he's some sort of all seeing eye. Like nothing, no matter how small, ever escapes his notice. And fuck him. Eve could totally be the collector of secrets if she wasn't so busy making amazing films. In fact, if she hadn't gone into acting, she'd probably be a world renowned spy by now.

But perhaps she should have let Konstantin finish his thought before she got too up in arms about his apparent superiority.

“Maksim was a great man...but he was also an insane one. Entrusting Oksana with such a sensitive matter was extremely foolhardy. Doing the trick in the first place was insanity.” He shakes his head. “I loved him like a brother but he was _not_ a good father.”

Eve digests that for a moment and then, “Does Oksana know that you know?”

“I don't know,” he admits, and Eve is pleased that he doesn't know everything after all.

“You should tell her you know...I think it might be good for her to hear.”

They share an understanding look, like they've both come to appreciate the other more.

Not long after, the doctor finally appears.

Eve springs to her feet, Konstantin follows soon after.

The doctor smiles ever so slightly. “Eve Polastri?”

Clearly this woman didn't get out to the cinema often if she didn't know who she was. Rather than correct her, Eve asks, “How bad is it?”

“Your husband lost a lot of blood and sustained serious damage from the stab wound. It punctured his lung, which caused it to collapse. We've managed to seal the tear and reinflate it.”

“So he's going to be okay?” she says hopefully, doing her best to ignore the small part of her uncharitable mind that wishes for the opposite.

“Your husband's in critical condition...but he's stable for now. He'll likely be under for hours to come, but you can see him if you wish.”

Apparently she doesn't immediately respond since both Konstantin and the doctor are now staring at her funnily. “Yes, yes, of course, I'd like to see him.”

The doctor nods. “He's in room 201. We've got him hooked up to an oxygen mask, just in case.”

Eve starts to go, but then turns around when she realizes Konstantin isn't following her.

“Aren't you coming?”

“I should probably go check on Oksana. Unless you really want me to stay then-”

“Go. Make sure she's okay too.”

With some difficulty she locates the room in question and finds her husband not to be the sole occupant. There's also a teenage boy dressed in superhero pyjamas who's clearly just been in some tragic accident. By comparison, Niko got off easy, and even though she knows it's wrong, she feels a little better about the situation.

Niko's pale and sickly and vulnerable, so she sits by his side, like any normal doting wife would, takes his hand, and listens to his sometimes stuttering breath through the oxygen mask.

She doesn't have the urge to cry exactly, but if he died now she'd feel just awful. Not only had they had one of their worst fights just before this, but for all she knows her lover is the one responsible for his less than stellar condition. Despite what Konstantin says, Eve's not convinced. Oksana was _very_ adamant about making sure Niko didn't talk. She left in the middle of the night. And now her husband's been stabbed and Oksana was clearly present at the time. What other explanation could there be?

Eventually the stillness and monotony starts to get to her, and she feels her eyelids begin to droop. Not wanting to fall asleep right now, she goes in search of coffee. No doubt it will be crappy and far removed from the exquisite brews she is used to on a daily basis, but nevertheless it will likely get the job done.

It's not long after she acquires some terribly strong, and just plain terrible black coffee, that Oksana shows. Eve was wandering the corridor just outside her husbands room. She comes to a stand still when she sees her.

Oksana's wearing a Bug's Bunny tank top, completely different to the sweater she last saw her in. It's not something Oksana would typically wear, not unless it were for a role. Then again her entire outfit seems to have changed, if her Chanel pants are anything to judge by.

As much as she wants to sink into her embrace, to feel her reassuring warmth, she can't bring herself to let her guard down fully. Not until she gets to the bottom of this.

“Oksana,” she says curtly, making no move to draw near.

Oksana seems a little puzzled by her behaviour, then comes in close, but doesn't touch Eve, whose arms are crossed, a clear sign to leave her alone.

“How's he doing?” is the first thing Oksana asks, peering over Eve's shoulder.

“He's been better,” says Eve tightly.

Oksana blinks at her tone, studies her face for a bit. Her eyes widen in shock. “You don't seriously think _I_ did this, Eve, do you?”

“Why _shouldn't_ I think that?”

Now Oksana seems upset by her lack of faith, but Eve is determined to stay strong.

“I thought we understood each other.”

Eve supposes she's referring to their unusual heart to heart in the tub.

“And _I_ thought we agreed that _you_ would _leave this alone_.”

“We did, but-”

“But Oksana does what Oksana wants, regardless of what promises she makes.”

They glare at each other for several heated moments, a fight threatening to break out, but then Konstantin claps a hand on Oksana's shoulder and says, “Nice night for a walk, don't you agree?”

He gives her a pointed look and Eve sighs. “Fine.” She looks to Oksana. “You have until I finish this coffee to tell me your _story_ , and then I'm coming right back here.”

Oksana clenches her jaw in suppressed rage. “You're not going to believe me no matter what I say, are you?”

“Probably not,” she agrees. “We both know how good you are at getting out of tight spaces...or playing the victim. No doubt you're going to claim self defense again.”

“Fuck you, Eve,” says Oksana, eyes tearing up. She whirls around and flees before Eve can take it back.

Eve sighs heavily again, running her hand over her face for the umpteenth time that endless night. She looks up to find Konstantin just slowly shaking his head in disapproval. 

“I _know_ all right. I'll go talk to her.”

A healthcare professional taps her on the shoulder, “He's awake.”

_Oh for the love of..._

 

*

Three hours earlier...

She finds him exactly where her contact told her he'd be. Trinkteufel. It's a complete dive, and not the sort of place Oksana's been in for a long time. This bar is particularly grungy and tacky, with spooky decoration and graffiti everywhere. She has a feeling that it hasn't been cleaned properly in decades. The other people here are few, and mostly relegated to one corner. Some goth kids playing cards.

There's practically a cloud of smoke billowing over his head. Oksana hates everything about cigarettes - they killed her mother after all - and she would gladly not have to approach him if it were at all possible. But she came here for a reason, so she might as well see this through, for better or worse.

She almost takes the vacant seat beside him at the bar, then thinks better of it, and orders a screwdriver. The punk rock looking bartender gives her a disdainful look, as if she just insulted his mother.

Niko must be incredibly intoxicated by now if he still hasn't taken note of her presence, especially considering there's a mirror before them. But his eyes are unfocused and glazed over with his drink of choice, which is likely straight up whiskey considering their location and the bartender's dislike of mixed drinks.

It's only after she gets her drink and hazards a couple of sips that he says, “Come to gloat?”

His words are quite slurred. He's definitely been here awhile. Wonderful. Now anything she says might very easily be forgotten. But she had to try regardless. The longer she left this alone, the more chance Eve's past indiscretion would get out.

“I just want to talk.”

Niko chuckles darkly. “Sure. Let's talk.” He turns on her then, nearly sloshes his drink all over her pants. “Let's talk about how you're fucking my wife.”

There's terrible, but not terribly loud death metal crap playing through the sound system, and so a couple of heads still turn at that. Most notably, the snooty bartender.

Great, now they had an audience. Not that she really expected any different.

“Let's talk about how you seduced her with your pretty face and your perky tits,” he gestures to them, nearly slapping them, “and your bad girl attitude.”

The bartender scoffs at this comment. Either he has no idea who she is, or her casual wear really is that offensive to him. She _had_ considered dressing the part more for this place, but couldn't be bothered.

Niko's speaking so loudly, he's practically shouting, but Oksana figures it's more to do with his severe inebriation than anything else.

“Let's talk about how you decided to ruin a fourteen year marriage.”

Niko makes a face like he's on the verge of puking, and Oksana readies herself to leap back at any moment.

“Let's talk about how you're the mother of all bitches.”

Niko stops talking to belch a foul smelling odour in her face, and Oksana does her best not to gag.

“Let's talk about...where was I?”

“You just called me a bitch,” she offers helpfully.

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

He glares at that and then says, “Why are you here, Oksana?

She shoots the bartender a steely look, and he begrudgingly moves to the other end of the bar to give them some privacy.

“How much to buy your silence?”

“You'll never silence me!” he laughs wildly, drunkenly. “It's a free country. I can say whatever I want, about _whoever_ I want. And you can't do a damn thing. So keep your stinking money away from me. I don't want it.”

This was starting to get a bit dangerous. In his condition, he could easily shout it out right here and now. But Oksana's equally sure if she tries to move him someplace else, he'll definitely let loose, either with words or vomit.

“Maybe not, but I heard from a little birdie that you're in need of some financial assistance since your wife cut you off again. Caught counting cards again was it?”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he demands, staggering to his feet and nearly collapsing. “You can't just go through people's private affairs whenever you feel like it. I'll sue you for this-”

“File whatever charges you'd like,” she snaps, slapping the bar, all but ensuring all eyes and ears are on them now. “Drag my name through the mud. Do whatever else you want. _But leave Eve out of it._ I won't let you hurt her like that. I won't let you ruin her life. I'll do whatever it takes to stop you.”

He looks taken aback by her earnestness. Then he narrows his gaze. “Is that a threat?”

“That's a promise. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But someone _will_ come for you if you go through with it.”

“Don't want to get your own hands dirty, that it?”

“Trust me, Niko, I'm more than willing to. I'd kill you right here and now if I thought I could get away with it.”

Niko blinks at that. “You're serious, aren't you?”

“I am.”

He takes stock of her for another elongated beat, eyes more alert. “You really love her, don't you?”

“I do,” she says, knowing in that moment that it's true. She won't hide from it anymore. There's a new inhabitant in the space that's been reserved for Anna for more than half her life. It's an equally thrilling and terrifying prospect.

Suddenly Niko bursts into tears, throws himself at her. “I just want her to be happy.”

For fucks sake. Apparently she couldn't get away from grown men crying around her tonight, pretend or otherwise.

She sucks it up as best she can and pats him on the back. “You know what you have to do then.”

“I do?” he says stupidly.

She rolls her eyes. “You have to let her go.”

“I don't know who I am without her,” he says mournfully, crying even harder.

“Then it's high time you found out. Be your own person, Niko.” 

She's supporting most of his weight by this point in time and as much as she'd like to just let him drop to the disgusting floor, she figures she should continue to play nice. “Come on then, let's get you a taxi.”

She half drags Niko out of the dingy place, away from their captivated audience, and out into the fresh, well _fresher_ , air.

Niko's still clinging onto her, so it's a bit difficult to get her phone out to call the cab. She manages somehow, and while they wait, Niko announces, “I need to take a leak!”

Blessedly, he lets go of her and stumbles back into the bar to relieve himself.

Oksana straightens out her Armani blouse and goes to lean against the wall.

She notices a shady looking man in her periphery, puts her hand on her stun gun. Admittedly, she only brought it along in case she needed to use it against Niko – for dissuasion - but now it appears it will serve another use.

The man just keeps walking by though, doesn't pay her a second glance. She lets go of the weapon and releases the tense breath. She hates herself a little for getting a bit nervous like any other normal woman would at this time of night. She blames the nerves on the lack of sleep.

Niko comes back for all of a minute before he giggles and heads back into the bar, presumably to piss yet again. He's probably spraying the dingy walls and ceiling too, kind of like an out of control fire hose. The thought eases some of the earlier tension.

_Goddammit, where is this damn taxi?_

Oksana's not accustomed to waiting for rides. She has half a mind to simply leave. She accomplished what she set out to do. She'll be sure to reiterate the finer points the following day when he's sobered up. But for now, there really wasn't much else she could do here.

She turns to leave only to find a knife in her face.

“Not _you_ again,” she groans.

The fucking evil cop was standing before her, looking fucking insane.

“I have lost my job, my reputation, and my sanity.”

_Clearly_ , she thinks.

“What are you going to do with that?” she says instead, conversationally. And curiously, she's just as unconcerned with this situation as she was with the gun standoff. She assumes that since he didn't pull the trigger then, he won't attack her now.

Just in case, her hand encloses on the stun gun once more.

“I'm going to kill you.”

“No, you're not.”

“I am.”

“You're not.”

“I am!” he says hysterically, but still not making a move one way or the other.

It's of course at this unfortunate moment in time that Niko reappears. He looks between them in confusion and then raises his fists, “I'd put that away, sir, I am known to be quite the pugilist!”

“Niko, get out of here you drunken idiot. This doesn't concern you.”

Rather than be deterred Niko throws a sloppy punch at the ex-cop, which of course Sauer dodges easily. He then easily grabs Niko from behind, looks her in the eyes and says, “This is your fault.”

The knife plunges into his chest cavity with near fatal accuracy.

Before she can respond to that extreme act of violence, Sauer pulls the knife out and runs away, crimson red quickly soaking the front of Niko's shirt.

She has two choices now. Try to go after him and possibly get stabbed herself, or stay here with Niko and make sure an ambulance comes. It was doubtful anyone within the bar took note of this altercation, or if they did, would've lifted a finger to help.

Neither option was particularly appealing. After all, if she just held off a bit, one of her problems would be permanently solved.

She shakes herself out of the dark path and gets her phone out again, calling 112 for the emergency services to come.

With that accomplished, she gets on the ground with Niko, takes off her shirt and holds it against the wound as tightly as she can.

“Niko, you moron, why did you do that?” she complains. “I had it under control.”

“Didn't look like it to me,” he says in near shock, coughing up blood.

“You're three sheets to the wind, my friend.”

“We're friends now are we?” he says skeptically.

“Well we _have_ both slept with the same woman,” she jokes, completely appropriately. He glares at her and she adds, “Too soon?”

He starts to pass out right after this, so she slaps him none too gently to keep him awake. If she takes a fair amount of pleasure out of the action, she'll never admit to it.

The ambulance shows up a few minutes later (along with the slow as fuck taxi) and the EMT's get him onto a stretcher and take off with little fanfare. She hops a ride with them, still shirtless, impassively watching them do their best to save his life.

If in the seemingly likely event he _does_ die, Eve can't be too mad about it. Oksana did her best to save him when she could so easily have walked away herself. There probably hadn't been any witnesses to the altercation, so no one would've been the wiser, would've just thought it was a random stabbing. 

She could have washed her hands of this problem once and for all, but she chose to do the right thing for once, and now she will just have to live with the consequences of those actions.

Eve would understand, she reassures herself. Eve would forgive her for breaking her promise.

She had to.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you catch the GoT ref in this chap? xD
> 
> I hate that I initially automatically made the doctor a man. Grrr
> 
> Had to bring some 'real' stabbing into this thing somehow. I don't exactly feel guilty about it though. :p
> 
> So anyway, just a heads up, but I'm estimating this will be done by chapter 19 or 20, so it's most likely wrapping up within the next 2 or 3 weeks.


	15. Chapter 15

“Hey,” says Eve, reaching out her hand and squeezing Niko's.

Niko blinks over at her, does a Darth Vader impression through the oxygen mask, and then pulls it down.

“Hey yourself,” he grins stupidly, bopping her on the nose.

Yikes. Clearly he was still flying high from whatever they gave him during surgery.

“So...you were stabbed-” she begins but is cut off.

“Was I?” he says, genuinely surprised. He then peeks down his hospital gown and looks over to her with a solemn nod. “Guess that explains these itchy bandages on my chest.”

He starts to peel them off, but Eve lunges for his hand, the sudden momentum causing her to half fall across his lap.

“If you wanted a roll in the hay, all you had to do was ask,” he says and slaps her ass.

And dear lord. How was she losing control of this situation so quickly. “ _Niko_!” she chastises. “Not now!”

“So later then?” he asks slyly once she's scrambled back into her seat.

Instead of answering that says, “I need you to focus.”

He suddenly gives her a very serious face, then salutes. “Aye, aye, captain!”

Needless to say Eve is starting to wonder if this is worth the effort. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“What happened when?” he says dazedly.

“When you were stabbed. It's very important that you tell me what happened.” Niko stares off into space so she snaps in his face and he startles in place. “Well? The bar? What happened at the bar?”

“The bar,” he mutters as he rubs at his stubble for overly long, and she thinks he's gotten distracted again, but then, “Well, let's see...I was drinking my sorrows away when your girlfriend showed up-”

“She's _not_ my girlfriend,” says Eve, unnecessarily defensive.

“Could've fooled me,” says Niko good-naturedly. Eve shoots him a glare which he doesn't even seem to register. “Your not girlfriend accosted me at the bar-”

“She assaulted you?”

“She got me stabbed,” he nods a couple of times, his head dipping down dangerously each time, as if weighted.

No doubt the drugs were rendering him more truthful, more pliable than he otherwise would've been. Eve has little doubt that if he was fully in control of his mental faculties right now he wouldn't have been so helpful, might have even lied. Which is precisely why she went to him first to get the real version of events.

“So _she_ didn't do the stabbing?”

Again he takes his time responding, his head lolling to the side. “No, that was a gentleman I've never had the pleasure of meeting before,” he says with a smile.

Now Eve's totally lost. “Why would some stranger want to stab you?” She thinks back to the film and the alleyway scene. “Were you mugged?”

Niko starts patting himself down right then and there. Then he looks over at her, proud as can be. “Everything seems to be in order.”

Eve rolls her eyes at his silly behaviour. And then it clicks. “Was the stranger threatening Oksana?”

Niko's closed his eyes, his head tilting forward. “Hey!” she says, snapping in his face again.

He startles awake and exclaims, “Where's the fire!”

She almost laughs but then repeats her question.

“Let's just say, your not girlfriend sure knows how to make friends. Do I get a kiss now?”

“What?” she says distractedly, after only getting a moment to digest.

“I almost died,” he says with a seemingly calculated look. “I think I deserve a kiss.”

Logically she knows that he's completely out of it, but secretly she wonders if a part of him is still conniving enough to be blackmailing her even under these circumstances.

To be honest, she's so tired of this bullshit, of everything, she almost wants to tell him to just do it. Make good on his threat. Get it over with. Finally be done with the last eighteen years of guilt.

The other part of her wants to yank his pillow out from under him and smother him to death. The image that flashes through her mind is so intense that she nearly feels compelled to follow through. Thankfully she shakes herself out of the dark path and instead stands up.

“Get some rest, Niko,” she says tightly and walks out of the room before he says something else to ignite the impulse again.

She decides to get some air, and that's when she comes across Oksana again outside of the hospital. She's talking with Konstantin in a hushed manner, he's rubbing her back. Even from here, Eve notices the tear tracks running down Oksana's face, the moonlight catching and making them glisten a bit like the few visible stars above. She's never seen Oksana genuinely cry, and her gut clenches accordingly. She feels just horrible for treating her so poorly after her ordeal.

Just like with Niko, Eve takes a steadying breath, lets it spread and calm, and then makes herself known.

“I talked to Niko-”

Oksana looks over at her, shrugs away from Konstantin, and immediately stops crying. The effect is rather unnerving. “So _now_ you believe me, huh, after your _husband_ told you I didn't do it?”

“I shouldn't have said those things,” she sighs. “I'm sorry.” She reaches for Oksana but Oksana shrinks from her touch. “I'm glad you're okay.”

“Are you?” throws Oksana with another accusatory look. She's pacing back and forth now, eyes never leaving hers. Eve has the strange sensation of dealing with a wounded animal...or perhaps one that is about to strike.

“Of course I am, Oksana,” she says in as soothing a tone as she can muster. “I don't want to lose you.”

“Neither did I.”

As sweet as the sentiment is, it doesn't let her off the hook.

Still keeping her cool she calmly explains, “You can't make promises, and then immediately break them and expect our relationship to last. If I can't trust you, it's never going to work out long term.”

Just like with the tears, Oksana abruptly stops pacing and stands directly before her, a little bit closer than is conventionally allowed. At this range, and even in the relative darkness, she can see how bloodshot her eyes are.

“You're never going to fully trust me though, are you? No matter what I say or do, you'll always have that little voice in the back of your mind doubting me.”

“You have to keep _earning_ my trust through action. You did that tonight. You could have let Niko die, but you didn't.” She places a hand to Oksana's chest. “Thank you.” 

Oksana seems to begrudgingly accept this by not pulling away.

“Is there any word on Sauer?”

“They're looking for him as we speak, but nothing so far.”

“I just hope he doesn't hurt anyone else. He sounds very unstable.”

She cups Oksana's face so softly now that Oksana's eyes get watery again. “I really am glad that you're okay.”

They hold each others gaze for a lengthy moment and then Eve pulls her into a hug. Oksana resists the embrace only for a second before melting into Eve, and squeezing her a little too tightly, not unlike their near miss being caught out by Renata. 

Now it really didn't matter who saw them like this. And as unfortunate as the circumstances are, Eve can't help but to be a little giddy at the prospect. She's been infatuated with Oksana for years now, never once dreaming they'd ever even meet, let alone _date_ , and now Oksana is all hers, and she doesn't plan on letting go anytime soon.

There was just one problem still.

Her husband.

She still needs to figure out a way to deal with him in a non-lethal way.

But if Eve knew how to do that, she would have done it ages ago.

And now that Oksana got him stabbed, he would be even _more_ inclined to out her.

Eve doesn't have long to ruminate on this because Konstantin clears his throat, and they break apart to look at him. She completely forgot he was still there. A normal person would've given them some space. Apparently the apple didn't fall too far from the tree.

“We should probably plan our strategy now.”

“Strategy?” she asks, completely confused.

“For dealing with the public and press.”

Eve's hit with a wave of dread at that daunting prospect. Not only had she been caught cheating, but her husband had been stabbed, her lover had been present, and the man responsible was still on the run. And the sour cherry on top of this fucked up sundae was of course her sudden change in sexuality.

The tension headache hits her hard then, hard enough to have Oksana giving her a concerned look, and placing a steadying hand to her waist.

“She needs to rest,” says Oksana to Konstantin.

“This has already gotten out of hand, Oksana. The longer we leave this alone, the worse it will be. And our stories _need_ to line up one hundred percent-”

“I'm taking Eve home.” There's a slight delay as she realizes her mistake. “The hotel I mean. Shut up,” she glares to Konstantin before he can make another remark. “We'll deal with this in a few hours.”

“I really must advise against-”

“And _I_ really must advise you to shut your trap,” says Oksana, brooking no further argument.

Oksana tries to lead her away but Eve pulls back. “No, it's okay, Oksana. I'm okay. Konstantin's right. We need to figure this out now.”

The only reason her own PR manager hadn't contacted her yet was because she left her phone at the restaurant. Presumably someone hadn't stolen it and she could retrieve it somewhere down the line. Or have her personal assistant, Hugo, do that.

“I don't think I could sleep anyway,” she says, struggling to keep the yawn at bay.

That was a damn lie and they all know it.

“So what is our story here?” reiterates Konstantin.

“Why do we need a story?” says Eve. “Why can't we just tell the truth?”

Oksana and Konstantin share a look and then Konstantin says, “Several sources have confirmed you were present at Trinkteufel. Did you stab Niko Polastri in a fit of rage or to simply send him a message? Did his wife ask you to do that? Did you plan his murder together? How long have you been carrying on this affair? Was it before or after you began working on the film together? Had Niko been abusing Eve? Or will you just claim so now to gain sympathy for your crimes?”

Jesus Christ, Konstantin did not play around.

Konstantin holds out an imaginary microphone to Oksana and she says, “No comment,” into it.

Konstantin pats her on the head like a dog and says, “Good girl.” He looks to Eve. “The fact is, there were no witnesses to the altercation...besides Niko. And there's no telling what he might say to the press when he's feeling better. Until Sauer is apprehended, everything is up in the air.”

“But then once he _is_ apprehended, he can clear the air.”

Konstantin shakes his head. “We can't rely on anyone else now but ourselves. So what do we want to do?”

 

*

 

The headlines in the tabloids the following day are even more sensational than usual, though all along the same vein.

_Wild Child Strikes Again in Killing Blow_

_ Co-stars Embroiled in Murderous Affair _

_ Killing Eve and Her Lover Murder Husband _

_ 'Wild' Actresses Caught in Sordid Affair, Make Husband Bleed _

The actual news was reporting something a little different.

Captain Vogt of precinct 63 had this to say to the press in a public appearance.

“At this time we ask that the public keep an eye out for this man,” - a photograph of Sauer appears in plainclothes along with a list of physical attributes including height and eye colour - “Han Saur. It pains me to say that he is, or rather was, one of our own. Unbeknownst to me, he had been bribing the stations psychologist to avoid the requisite therapy sessions allotted to officers annually, especially ones who suffered from paranoia, as was the case with Sauer. After an altercation with Oksana Astankova, on the night of June 11th, he got it into his head that she was the enemy and must be eliminated at all costs. Without the brave actions of Niko Polastri, the ubiquitous star, beloved by many, would have surely lost her life. We owe him a debt of gratitude, and as such, will be honouring him with the Medal for Bravery when he has sufficiently recuperated from his injuries, and which will be personally administered by Miss Astankova herself.”

Eve makes a face after that announcement and looks over at Oksana who is busy admiring herself in the bathroom mirror.

“A little much, don't you think?”

“Better too much than too little,” returns Oksana. She inspects her face a few more times and then glances over at Eve. “What? You didn't want to vilify him. This was the next best option. Now that everyone _adores_ him, he has no reason to turn on you.”

Eve's still not convinced this was the best way to go. A better third option hadn't presented itself to her last night, but she still didn't like this one bit. The man who had blackmailed her into staying with him for months is now going to be very publicly recognized as a hero for simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It was meant to be an over the top production to minimize the nature of their, as of yet, unconfirmed cheating scandal. As Konstantin said, “Deflect, deflect, deflect. People have very short attention spans these days. Distract them long enough and they'll completely forget what they were supposed to be outraged about.” It was probably true considering people were already fixated on the stabbing and nothing that came before it. It was also an underhanded tactic that a certain abhorrent American President used on an almost daily basis. And Eve didn't know how to feel about that either.

Oksana stops admiring herself and comes over to Eve and wraps her in a backwards hug, her favourite. She sways them softly side to side for a few beats then kisses her hair.

“This isn't my first rodeo, Eve. You can trust that this will work.” She spins Eve around so that they're facing but still in each others arms, then goes back to swaying them, almost like a slow dance but not quite. “And then once this is finally dealt with,” Oksana smiles, “we can be together. Openly. Nothing will be in the way.”

Eve wants to smile but can't quite muster it. “What about the blackmailer?”

“I've got people looking into that as we speak,” assures Oksana. “Whoever this guy is, we'll know soon enough, and the police will handle it from there.”

“You really have Captain Vogt under your little thumb, don't you?” she says, dryly.

Oksana shrugs. “What can I say? Her daughters' a fan.”

“You promised her tickets to the premiere, didn't you?” she says, even more dryly.

Oksana smirks. “It's her daughters eighteenth birthday soon and she wanted something extra special.” She makes a bit of a disgusted face. “I'm going to have to take pictures with her too.”

Eve chuckles lightly at that, pats the side of her face. “Ah, poor baby. Somehow you'll make it through.”

Oksana continues with stars in her eyes, like she didn't even hear her. “And who knows? Maybe all of this controversy will lead to us getting a sequel?”

That has Eve full on laughing and then becoming serious abruptly when Oksana appears to be sincere. “Come _on_ , Oksana. There's _no_ way. We'll be lucky if this one doesn't completely flop.”

“Stranger things have happened,” shrugs Oksana again. “Like the two of us ending up together.”

“I don't think that's strange at all.”

“No?”

“I mean, I _did_ cyber stalk you for years. _And_ ask Bill to give you this role.”

“No, you didn't.”

“I did.”

Oksana gives her a funny look at that and Eve realizes she just sounded like a typical fangirl creep.

“Wow, you are my biggest fan, aren't you Eve?”

“Shut up,” she says, pinching her side, to which Oksana flinches.

“I think I might be your biggest fan too.”

Eve's a little taken aback by the earnest way she said that and the fond way she's looking at her. It's almost like they're using different words to say something else entirely. And Eve's not quite sure she wants to have _that_ particular conversation just yet, not when things are still so up in the air.

Thankfully Oksana knows how to ruin serious moments like no one else she knows.

“Do you want to fuck?”

Eve blinks at that. “Sure.”

They had nothing else to do all day since Bill had canceled shooting in lieu of all of the commotion the previous night. It also afforded him an unfettered opportunity to investigate the perpetrator of the leaked photos and get rid of them before they filmed anything else. Eve doesn't think she's ever been on a project with so much extortion and shady business. It was almost like a bad luck fairy was following her around, sprinkling her with evil pixie dust every few days or so.

Rather than head to the bed, Oksana nonchalantly pulls off her top, sits down on the couch they first had sex on, and then pats her thigh.

Once Eve's straddled her waist, on bent knees, she says, “Feeling nostalgic are we?”

“More like I wanted to revisit our greatest hits,” says Oksana and then slaps her ass, making Eve jolt a bit into her.

It was a bit surreal to have two different lovers do that to her in the span of twenty-four hours, but Eve barely registers the fact as it instantly turns her on, a fact Oksana is well aware of.

“You're going to pay for that,” she glares, pinching Oksana's nipples through the bra, which causes her eyes to roll back in her head and colour to dot the upper side of her cheekbones.

“Oh, I hope so,” says Oksana with a cheeky grin, after Eve lets go.

Eve rolls her eyes and pulls her into the first kiss of many.

Or that would have been the case except there's knocking at the door.

“Ignore it. It's probably just Konstantin,” says Oksana, then continues to kiss her.

And as much as Eve wants to just lose herself in this familiar bliss once more, she can't help but to be distracted by the continued knocking.

Oksana groans in irritation and yells, “Go away, Konstantin! I'm busy!”

“Not Konstantin!” returns a familiar female voice.

They share a look and then Eve begrudgingly clambers off Oksana and goes to answer the summons, suddenly very nervous. She fiddles with her hair needlessly, then unlocks and opens the door.

Elena's standing there outside of Oksana's hotel room with an unreadable expression. Without waiting for permission, she moves passed Eve and into the room, eyes quickly alighting on a still shirtless Oksana. Eve's a bit annoyed, though hardly surprised that Oksana didn't bother to make herself decent.

“If you came to join,” says Oksana, “you'll need to run it through Eve first. She's the brains of this operation.”

“I'm not so sure about _that_ ,” says Elena. And damn, Elena was definitely pissed. But Eve didn't think about them. Or at least, not the fact that they were fucking. “Would either of you two _lovely_ humans like to tell me what the _hell_ is going on?”

Eve and Oksana share another look. Oksana shrugs. “She's _your_ friend.”

“I'm not so sure about that _either_ ,” retorts Elena.

Eve swallows guiltily at her tone and intense gaze and then gestures towards the bathroom for some privacy.

With the door closed behind them, she turns to face Elena again.

“I'm not sure where to start.”

“From the beginning would be nice. Just how long have you been seeing _her_ again?”

The pressure and anxiety of finally having this conversation gets to her in predictable fashion.

“Since about two weeks after we kissed,” she admits like a total moron.

She squeezes her eyes shut, not wanting to see the disbelief and hurt.

Elena lets out a breathy snort, more air than sound. “Figured it was something like that.” Eve chances a glance at her. “And things have been going _well_ on that front, have they?”

Apparently Elena was hellbent on taking cheap shots at her for the rest of this interaction.

“Look, I know you're pissed about this whole thing...but I can't help how I _feel_ , Elena. You of all people should understand that we can't choose who we fall in love with.”

_Jesus Christ, Eve!_

And this time Elena is the one to glance away, her jaw clenching. She looks back to Eve, steely eyed. “So, you're in love with her then?”

“I think so, yes,” answers Eve timidly, preparing herself for the worst.

“Well, good,” says Elena gruffly.

“Wha-what?” she blinks in complete surprise. “You're happy about that?”

This time Elena snorts with more sound than air. “Yes, Eve, I'm ecstatically happy that you decided to go back to the woman who cheated on you and then went and stabbed your husband.”

“That's _not_ what happened.”

She leaves out the part where she thought it was true too.

“So what did?”

“I told her the specifics about the dirt Niko had on me.”

Elena almost seems more hurt by this confession than all the rest.

Nevertheless, Eve goes on to explain more fully about last nights events, at the end of which, Elena is shaking her head.

“What? You don't believe me?”

“You _better_ be in love with her. It's the only way you're going to survive this shit storm about to rain down on you. And make no mistake, Eve. Whatever she told you, this sort of thing _doesn't_ go away. Not permanently. You're going to be answering questions about this for the _rest_ of your life.”

“I know,” she says with a heavy sigh, running a hand over her suddenly tired eyes.

Elena looks like she's torn between offering comfort and continuing to hold onto her fierce grudge.

“Are _we_ going to be okay?” she asks hopefully.

“Only if you stop being a twat.”

“I'll put it on the calendar for the foreseeable future.”

Elena shakes her head again but Eve knows she's won this round by the slight upturn to her lips.

“Oh, come here, you idiot,” mutters Elena, drawing her into a hug.

It's a little too reminiscent to the moment before Elena kissed her, so Eve's a little on edge when they pull apart.

Thankfully she's saved by the bell, or rather the knock. “Are you ladies finished in there?”

“Why? That impatient to have sex?” calls Elena, very pointedly not looking her in the eyes.

“No, I'm _that_ impatient to use the loo.”

Elena and Eve share a look. Then because she feels the urge to get on Elena's good side, to have some fun, she locks the door instead of opening it.

She looks over at Elena who is grinning back.

Oksana tries turning the handle a few times, knocks some more.

“Haha, very funny,” says Oksana in a slightly higher register than usual, which to Eve meant she really _did_ have to go. It was one of her quirks. Sometimes when Oksana got aroused, she needed to pee badly.

“Seriously, Eve, I'm going to piss my pants if you don't open this right now.”

“Maybe you should invest in some adult diapers then,” she replies meanly.

“Eve, open up!” demands Oksana, rattling the handle wildly and banging.

When neither of them respond, Oksana growls in frustration and then literally kicks the door open in one fell swoop. Which likely meant this wasn't the first time she's done that.

They both jump back in time, startled to say the least, wide eyed and somewhat fearful. In Eve's case, she's both scared and horny at that display of brute strength, not unlike when Oksana punched a hole in the wall.

“Out! Now!” she snarls, to which they readily acquiesce.

“I think maybe I'll be on my way now,” says Elena once they've put some distance between them and the angry lioness. “You'll be all right, right?”

Eve nods in a daze, staring towards the bathroom, breathless with lust.

Elena rolls her eyes and leaves the vicinity.

Not long after Oksana stalks out of the bathroom, predatory eyes on her. Eve yelps and tries to run away but Oksana easily scoops her up and tosses her onto the bed. Oksana pounces on top of her a moment later, preventing any chance of escape.

“You're _really_ going to pay for that,” says Oksana, baring her teeth, looming over her threateningly.

“Oh, I hope so,” she says, vibrating with excitement.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As soon as I said lioness, my mind instantly went to that cringe worthy scene in 17 Again, which just made it even funnier for me.
> 
> I have to pat myself on the back for finding a way to say, 'killing eve' in here lol
> 
> I honestly could not find out if Germany even has civilian medals of the sort, but I know a certain someone will be more than happy to fill me in. :p


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the GoT theme song and One Way Or Another battling for dominance in my head. Who will win and who will die?

Later that day when she's busy soaking all the places she's deliciously sore in after ravaging Eve, and being ravaged in return, her phone pipes out the French national anthem. Normally she wouldn't answer a FaceTime summons from Anna while in this particular location, but she's got bubble bath covering all her fun bits and she can't be bothered to move. Even so, she makes sure to angle it so that it's only showing neck up.

“Hey.”

“Hello, darling.” Anna squints at her. “Are you in the bath? Is this a bad ti-”

Oksana chuckles lightly. “It's fine. I promise not to flash you.”

Anna makes a face at that and says, “How considerate of you, dear.”

“How's it going, Anna?” she smiles at her pleasantly.

“I was going to ask _you_ that question. You seem awfully chipper considering what I've been seeing on the news.” Oksana doesn't elaborate on her good mood so Anna prods, “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I'm fine. I didn't stab him in case you were wondering.”

Anna looks offended. “I never thought that for one second, my dear. You may have a nasty temper and a penchant for violence, but nearly fatally stabbing someone? No, you wouldn't do that.”

Why couldn't _Eve_ have had that kind of faith in her from the get go?

“Guess I'm not your perfect little angel anymore, huh?”

Anna laughs and Oksana forgot how much she loved the sound. Eve had a nice laugh too, but she hadn't heard it from Anna in weeks, and it was all the sweeter because of that.

“You have never been anything of the sort. Did you really think I saw you that way?”

“No, I guess not,” she shrugs. “I just don't like to disappoint you.”

Anna looks serious all of a sudden, an adorable crease between her eyes. “And you don't. I _know_ you. You try harder than anyone else. You pretend like you don't give a shit, but you actually care more deeply than most.”

Oksana rolls her eyes. “Okay, I don't need to be psychoanalyzed right now. I pay someone a ridiculous amount for that already.”

“Therapy's been going well then?”

“Well enough. She wants to up my sessions since this latest incident. I told her it wasn't necessary. I already go twice a week as it is.” Oksana smirks. “I think she's trying to put a down payment on a yacht or something at this point.”

Anna laughs again. “Could be. Could be.” She gets serious once more. “So...about last night...”

Oksana sighs, knowing this conversation is inevitable. “What do you want to know?”

Anna takes a moment as if to collect her thoughts and then, “You punched the husband of the woman you're working with. And by the looks of it, he deserved it. I was just wondering...why were you there? Just happened to be jogging by, was it?”

Of course Anna didn't buy that bullshit they had fed to the news outlets.

This part has also been inevitable for some time. She could deflect instead but she figures she might as well get it over with, just rip the bandaid off.

“I've been seeing Eve for awhile now,” she admits, heart racing, palms sweating.

Anna is stunned into silence for several seconds. She blinks back into animation. “Oh...well, that explains some things. Most things actually. Why didn't you tell me?”

Oksana simply shrugs.

Anna looks at her like she's waiting for more and when she doesn't get it says, “Do you really think the public doesn't know what's going on?”

“It doesn't matter what they think.”

“Why is that? You're ending things with Eve?”

“No,” she frowns. “Why would you think that?”

“There's been a lot of bad publicity from this already. It's only going to get worse. If you're seen together...romantically, it could reignite everything again. I thought the goal of your completely normal and subdued award ceremony was to end all of this on a high note.”

Oksana must be delirious from lack of sleep, but she swears that Anna is sounding jealous right now and doing her best to convince Oksana to break up with Eve.

“No, that's just for Niko's benefit.”

“I don't understand why you would want to paint him as a hero,” says Anna, still clearly confused.

“It's complicated.”

“So complicated you won't even explain it to me?” She tries to joke with, “I may be getting up there in years, but my mental faculties are still as sharp as ever.”

Oksana doesn't like keeping secrets from Anna, but she also can't tell the truth.

“I can't. It's not my place.” Anna gives her a weird look. “What?”

“Nothing. It's just...I'm surprised at your restraint. We've never kept secrets before.” Anna raises both brows. “Or maybe we have?”

“Everyone needs a few of those,” she says nonchalantly, keeping her face unreadable. “Keeps things interesting. How's Maxi doing?”

Anna seems the most taken aback by this question. “You want to talk about my husband?”

“Why is that so shocking?” she says, knowing full well the reason.

“You _never_ want to talk about him,” says Anna, almost in an accusatory way.

“Just returning the favour,” she shrugs. “You're _so_ interested in _my_ relationship.”

Now it's Anna's turn to frown. “Because you're _in_ a relationship. With a married woman. That's why.”

“Which part of that bothers you more?” she says feeling braver than usual. There's something exhilarating about provoking Anna in this way. She's never had the cause to do so before, and Oksana's very curious where this might lead.

“What?”

“The fact that I'm in a relationship? Or the fact that she's married?”

Anna was very religious and took her vows very seriously. She had never been too pleased with Oksana's gadabout ways, which is why they generally didn't discuss her sex life...well, that, among a whole host of other reasons.

“Admittedly, I'm not thrilled that you're having an affair. You were always so adamant about _not_ doing things like that.”

And her tone is measured and level like usual, but Oksana can feel the disappointment leaking off of her in waves. And maybe it's her imagination again, but she feels like there's something _else_ there behind her eyes, something else that Anna isn't quite saying with her words. Oksana can't put her finger on it though.

“The situation's-”

“Complicated. So I heard.”

They simply stare at one another for a time and then, “You still didn't answer my question.”

“Why would I have a problem with you being in a relationship?” says Anna, apparently puzzled, but not looking her in the eyes.

Oksana waits for her to glance back before hitting her with, “You tell me.”

This was getting so dangerous, so exciting, it was difficult to contain herself. Her heart was literally pounding in her chest, her pruny fingers getting very slippery with sweat.

“I really don't know what you're getting at,” says Anna, a forced smile in place. “I'm happy for you.”

“Are you?” she jabs once more, addicted to this conversation and the confession she swears is on the tip of Anna's lips. If she just pushes a little bit more then maybe...

“Of course I am,” reiterates Anna. “It's all I ever wanted. I just want you to be happy. You _are_ happy, right?”

“Yes,” she says breathless.

Just a little more, just one more question and maybe she can get the answer she's craved for so many years.

“Well, then, that's great,” says Anna, an even faker smile on her lips. “And I hope you two manage to get through this in one piece.”

Oksana's about to ask her point blank if she ever fancied her, when the phone slips out of her sweaty grasp and into the depths of the bubble bath.

Apparently she screams such bloody murder that Eve barges in through the broken door and scoops up the plunger, holding it en garde as if to defend her against imaginary attackers.

The sight makes her belly laugh so hard that her face and stomach hurts for hours after.

 

*

Less than forty-eight hours later the blackmailer is quietly arrested. As expected, it was one of the security staff. They caught him trying to make a break for it out the back, no doubt seeing the police arrive on camera. With little fanfare he's put into the back of a cop car and taken away for further questioning. Oksana hopes they can get Eve's money back to her somehow, but that is probably a faint hope, since the bastard is likely going to use said money to hire the best lawyers in the biz. She almost wants to ask Captain Vogt to let her take a crack at him alone, cameras off, but she knows she'll never be allowed. As long as he kept his trap shut, there would be no need for broken bones.

With that thought in mind, she pays Niko a visit, sans Eve.

As soon as he sees her he narrows his gaze and gestures to the TV in the room, “I heard about your little publicity stunt. You can't _really_ expect me to go along with this.”

The teenager in the superhero pyjamas is apparently sound asleep, not that it probably would matter much. His head is wrapped in so much bandage that he likely can't hear more than a few feet away from his bed.

Still, she makes sure to move in close when she says, “I have it on good authority that you always wanted to be famous in your own right. Now's your chance, Niko. Embrace your fifteen minutes of fame with open arms. Don't let this opportunity go to waste.”

“But that's exactly what it is, bullshit,” complains Niko. “I didn't _do_ anything.”

“You saved my life,” she points out helpfully. “That's not nothing.”

“I thought you had everything under control?” says Niko sarcastically.

She was surprised that he remembered events so clearly, considering the high blood alcohol level and shock to the system.

“We both know I just said that to save face,” she says demurely. She puts a hand to her chest. “I was embarrassed at needing a man to save me. Especially one with such a ridiculous mustache.”

“You're insulting me now?” he scowls. “I thought you wanted my cooperation?”

“Not insulting. Teasing,” she says poking him lightly in the arm. “We're friends, remember?”

“Never agreed to that either,” grumbles Niko.

“But we _did_ agree on one thing.”

“And what's that?”

“That we _both_ want Eve to be happy.”

Niko glares at her for a time and then he sighs, eyes softening.

Still, he doesn't respond so she goes on with, “Wouldn't you much rather be known as the hero of the story rather than the villain?”

She was very obviously appealing to his ego now, a fact he likely knew, but didn't mind. Oksana had found throughout the years that if one simply kept talking, eventually people would agree to all manner of things, if only to get them to shut up. It was most easily accomplished with men, and a few lip bites and hair tosses, but now wasn't the time for those.

“This is a win win win for all of us. You get your medal and launched into your own stardom, which would no doubt help your book sales...”

Apparently he was a Maths professor who dreamed of making it in the literary circle too. He had a side job catering on the weekends, which is where he first met Eve. Niko wanted to get some cookbook recognition, but even _that_ was so dull that Eve's stardom hadn't helped book sales much, even after she advertised it on her social media more than once. He was clearly no Chrissy Teigen.

“So this is a business transaction then?” he glowers some more.

“Isn't it always? In one way or another?” she responds pleasantly enough. She knows she has him already but she still needs to hear him say it. “Well?”

“Fine, I'll play the part you've written me.” He jabs a finger at her. “But this is still bullshit.”

“Fair enough,” she concedes.

They shake hands, this time in a more normal way than in the elevator, but she doesn't let go right away. She pulls him towards her until they're almost nose to nose. “And we're done with that other nonsense right?” she says looking him straight in the eyes. “You're going to leave that alone? Swear to me.”

He tenses, nostrils flaring, but then he relaxes and answers with, “I swear I won't ever say anything about Eve's past indiscretions.”

There's no lie as far as she can tell. And the day that _Niko_ got one over on her would surely be the day she died. But just to make doubly sure...

She grips his hand a bit tighter. “If you _ever_ go back on your word-”

“Yes, yes, I know. You'll kill me.” He chuckles without mirth. “I think I've had enough almost dying to tide me over for the foreseeable future.”

She lets go of him and takes a step back. “I'm glad you've gained some clarity.”

“More like I've gained a healthy appreciation of the dangers of knives.”

They share a look and then she bursts into laughter. “That's funny. You should use that in your book.”

“It's a cookbook,” he states matter of fact, like the idea of humour is foreign to him. Which honestly, Oksana wouldn't exactly be surprised by. As far as she's known him, he's always been a sourpuss.

“They can have funny little anecdotes. It might _spice_ things up a bit,” she grins.

“You cook?” he says, either not getting her hilarious joke or pretending not to.

“Sometimes.”

“Maybe you can teach Eve a thing or two. Like how to boil water without destroying the pot.”

“She's _that_ terrible?” she says in genuine horror, wondering what the hell she'll do if Eve ever decides to cook for her someday. Oksana is a fantastic actor, but by the sounds of things, her skills would be put to their utmost limit at even the _sight_ of Eve's cooking.

“Let's just say this isn't my first visit to the ER,” says Niko with the first glimpse of a sense of humour.

They share another look and this time they both laugh, but it's short lived because he groans, clutching at his chest, and the nurse shoos her away soon after.

 

 

*

 

Despite the fact that it's rather blustery out today, there's a large turnout to the medal awarding ceremony. Typically this sort of thing would be a more formal event and be held in a federal building with a few dozens of people. Oksana's not sure, but likely there are hundreds of people present. Some are milling towards the far side of the town square, but most are pressing in amongst themselves as close as they can get to the make-shift stage. She assumes this is more because of her presence than because of the weather, a fact all but confirmed by the multitude of Villanelle merch on display, and the amount of screeching emanating from the mostly female crowd. Thankfully a fair amount of the racket is being drowned out by the howling wind.

Oksana herself is dressed in a killer forest green pin-striped suit, the one her character was most known for in the last two movies in the series. Her hair is done up tightly in a circular braid so as to combat the wind as much as possible. The captain is here too, in her formal police attire, as well as another man, the usual administrator of such things from the police department. He's clearly not impressed with the spectacle Oksana's made of this generally solemn affair.

The bodyguards near the stage have their work cut out for them. Already one overly enthusiastic woman had thrown her bra onto the stage like they are at a concert and Oksana is a rockstar. Another had tried to run past security and onto the stage herself. It wouldn't be the first time one had succeeded in doing so, most notably during a press junket interview for _T_ _ake Me To The Hell Hole_. Oksana had rolled with it at the time. In all honesty those sorts of crazed fans didn't bother her, it was flattering that they loved her so much. It was only when they tried to touch her without her consent that she took offense to their unplanned presence.

More than once she had almost beat up one of her fans. Thanks to Konstantin's swift interference, that had never come to pass. Today could be the day though. This group of girls seemed to be particularly rowdy, which may be due to her never making a public appearance in Germany before.

Eve is also present on stage with her...but only in so far as to support her husband and his heroism. It's irritating to say the least to watch them sitting beside each other holding hands, waiting for the ceremony to begin. As predicted, the media is confused as to the true nature of their relationship, and Eve wants to keep it that way until such time as them revealing themselves won't cause _as_ much of a scandal. Oksana doesn't get the point though, whether or not it happens _now_ while she's still married or shortly thereafter, people are going to talk, people are going to realize. Nearly a fortnight has passed since the stabbing and they've been laying low that whole time and making sure never to be seen together outside of the set. Just like how it always was. She's starting to get the impression that Eve is _never_ going to be ready to be out to the press and public, that Eve doesn't _want_ to be out.

And the more she watches them practically snuggle into each others side, allegedly for warmth, the more she's becoming liable to say something naughty when she addresses the crowd in short order. This is a live televised event. All she has to do is step up to the mic and say she and Eve are an item, that this entire thing is a sham, and that will be the end of it. She's also pretty sure that will be the end of _them_. Eve would probably never forgive her for betraying her trust in such an infamous way.

It's just very hard on her. She's wanted to take Eve out to dinner and dancing, completely exposed, as themselves, for ages now. Even before she cheated on her. Probably since the day they met. Certain people just made an immediate impression on you. And Eve has pretty much been it since Anna.

The nearest church tower finally dings two o'clock, which means, they can finally get this show on the road.

Captain Vogt goes over to the mic to say a few words, mostly to introduce her, although it's more or less pointless and completely perfunctory, not unlike the other administrator who wouldn't be administrating shit. The crowd goes wild as they say and she waves at them and the cameras accordingly.

Oksana graciously accepts the mic, plants her biggest, most insincere smile across her face, the one she exclusively reserves for interviewers and press junkets she absolutely abhors, and speaks:

“Just in case anyone wandered off the street and doesn't know why we're here today, let me reiterate.” She turns and gestures to Niko, who's hair, and, to a lesser extent, mustache, are flying around wildly. He looks even more like a walrus in need of a haircut than usual. “This brave man, this beautiful soul saved my life.” She places a hand to her chest, over her heart. “I would have surely perished, surely died agonizingly without his bold interference against a crazed madman.” She starts walking back and forth along the podium. “As many of you are no doubt aware, my much celebrated character Villanelle-” here there is more ear-shattering squealing and she has to pause until they shut the fuck up - “is trained in Krav Maga. I however am not. And on that fateful night, I froze. I couldn't get my body to react the way I needed it to, to flee. I feared I was about to draw my last breaths, but then against all odds, Niko Polastri, the mostly forgettable, behind the scenes man of my co-star Eve Yang, came to my rescue.” She cocks her head ever so slightly towards them at that little nugget and is pleased to see that neither is impressed. “Like a white knight of old, and without a thought for his own safety, he jumped between us at the last second, and took the blow himself, knowing full well he would probably die. He sacrificed himself for me folks, so that I could go on to continue to inspire the millions of queer youth out there.” More screaming. She swears one of the girls, the bra throwing one, looks practically rabid. “To remind them to be bold, to never back down, and to always fight for the things most important to them.” While they're screaming some more, she chances another glance at Eve during her repeated dramatic turns at this stage of her fairly well rehearsed speech. She may have made some 'minor' in the moment adjustments, that neither Eve nor Konstantin had approved. Eve's being very careful to keep her face as unaffected as possible, though she's obviously tensed up now. At least it's obvious to Oksana. She could push this further and see what happens, to follow her own advice, but she figures she's probably already gotten away with as much as she can without seriously pissing off Eve. “And for that I will be forever grateful. So I ask of you now to put your hands together for the man of the hour, the best man I know...for Niko.”

Niko looks very uncomfortable with all eyes on him, cheering him on, albeit not as loudly as they had cheered her on, a fact that Oksana is feeling secretly smug about, though hardly surprised. Eve looks like she's doing her best not to roll her eyes at Oksana's over the top performance.

She gets the medal from the now standing administrator and waits for Niko to stand before her, centre stage. With that accomplished, he bends forwards slightly so that she can slip it around his neck. Then she grasps his hand in a firm handshake, and pulls him into an embrace, which he is at first resistant to. “Smile now,” she mutters as they pull apart. She throws an arm around his shoulders and makes sure to hold this pose for long enough so that the crowd and cameras get their fill.

It's at this point that she signals for them to set off the ecofetti.* It cascades around them in rainbow colours and quickly blows off into the crowd and beyond, and predictably, they go even wilder as a result. If people didn't know any better they'd think her and Niko had just gotten hitched. But really it was just her sly way of winking at Eve yet again.

While this is occurring, Oksana watches as a hooded figure slips past the security on the outskirts of the perimeter and swiftly makes its way towards the stage. A hand reaches into the depths of the trench coat, and a moment later another police officer tackles them to the ground. She watches as the police officer handcuffs the person and brings them back to a standing position. The hood is pulled down, and they're very obviously not Sauer. The police officer looks over at her and the Captain and says, “It's not him,” into their earpieces anyway. Then he leads the decoy man away, the rest of the crowd completely unawares and reveling in the confetti.

She notes the flash of light a second before the gunshot rings.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *eco-friendly confetti
> 
> 207 just solidified that we're legit watching fanfic come to life (and I kind of don't want to write this anymore as a consequence...but I'll get there...one way or another...cue all of the fanvids using this stalker song). How we WANT the season to end and how it WILL end are probably two very different things and we're probably not prepared for the worst. In conclusion, I don't think any of us will survive the finale which is probably for the best as the hellatus will be unbearable.
> 
> Anyway, dun dun dun. :P


	17. Chapter 17

She slaps Oksana hard across the face the moment they're out of the limelight.

“So _this_ was your real plan all along?!” she shrieks, voice mostly swallowed up by the wind. “To use yourself as bait?! How stupid do you have to be?!”

Oksana takes the abuse as calmly as she can and answers, “Well, I _had_ to draw him out, Eve. Captain Vogt agreed with me. It was the best plan.”

“You're both morons then! You could have been killed!”

“But I wasn't,” reassures Oksana, taking her hands. “Everything's okay now. All the bad men are dealt with.” She smiles. “It's just you and me. We're safe.”

Eve yanks her hands away and stalks back towards the waiting cop car. They had been quickly spirited away after the shot went off, and half way to the station before Eve had demanded they pull over so she could have a word with Oksana.

“You're seriously mad at me right now?” calls Oksana cluelessly.

“Yes, Oksana, I'm seriously mad at you!” she whirls around. “You could have at _least_ let me in on what you were up to! The _only_ reason you didn't is because you _knew_ I wouldn't agree!”

Oksana grabs her gesticulating arm and pulls her closer. “I'm sorry, okay. I didn't think it was that big a deal. I was wearing a bulletproof vest. And there were only so many buildings he could use as a vantage point, and we had them all covered.”

The arrogance of that statement nearly has her slapping Oksana again. They couldn't possibly have covered every vantage point. Just the most _likely_ ones for a sniper. A sniper who could have easily shot her in the head if he had managed to take the shot before being taken down himself.

Still, Oksana's looking at her so sincerely that Eve doesn't have the heart to yell anymore. She sighs instead. “You can't be so cavalier about your life anymore.” She grips the front of Oksana's shirt. “I can't take it.”

It had been bad enough coping with Niko's almost demise, dealing with Oksana's would be unbearable.

“I won't. I'll be a good girl from now on. The best. No one else will want to kill me...except for maybe you.”

Oksana's words were obviously meant to make her laugh. They have the opposite effect. Oksana looks bewildered by her suddenly bursting into tears.

“Hey, don't cry. I'm fine,” she says, pulling Eve into a hug. Eve clings to her desperately, while she soils her white shirt with tears. Oksana cradles her head and rocks her gently. “I'm right here.”

“Sorry for slapping you,” she says after venting her emotions and snotting up Oksana's shirt for some minutes.

“Wouldn't be the first time,” says Oksana with a suggestive eyebrow raise.

Eve rolls her eyes and hiccup laughs more from relief than because that was funny. That kind of line was getting old fast. Oksana really needed to come up with some new material.

“Come on then,” says Oksana, taking her hand. “Let's get out of here.”

 

*

 

That night when Oksana's in the middle of pleasuring her with her mouth, she suddenly stops and just gazes up at her.

“What's wrong?” she says hazily, impatiently. She had almost been there.

“You're so beautiful,” sighs Oksana, a sappy smile on her face. “I love you, Eve.”

“You seriously chose right now to have this conversation?” she responds, annoyed, even as her heart flutters. It's been a long time since anyone's said that to her.

“I know it's not ideal, but I just had to say something.”

Oksana raises an expectant eyebrow, waiting.

“Yes, okay, I love you too, Oksana.” They share a brief smile and then, “Get on your back.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

Oksana does as asked and Eve crawls over to her...and sits on her face. “Now shut up and finish what you started.”

After what could only be described as making love, Oksana looks at her again in that same sappy way, tracing patterns on her stomach, faintly tickling her sides. “What do you think about Greece?”

The question catches her off guard and suddenly she's feeling very apprehensive, so she deflects with a joke like Oksana would.

“I think that movie didn't age very well.”

“No, I'm serious, Eve,” says Oksana, rolling her eyes after she gets it. “Would you want to go there with me?”

“You mean like, after we finish filming?” Oksana nods. “That's pretty soon.”

“They've got the Acropolis,” mutters Oksana kissing her shoulder. “And Mount Olympus.” She kisses her neck. “And Elafonissi Beach, which is just stunning.” She kisses her jaw. “And I know where to get the best Feta Me Meli and...what is it?”

“It's just all of that sounds pretty public,” she says, fidgeting in place.

Oksana's face falls. “Yes, Eve. Generally speaking, when people go _out_ , they are in fact _out_.”

“Greece isn't exactly known for it's hospitality towards the gays. Which is ironic considering everything they used to get up to in the past,” she jokes.

“So your issue is sexuality related?” says Oksana after studying her for a bit.

“Look, I spent over forty years believing I was straight and then suddenly I'm dating one of the most notorious womanizers around, and she likes to make a big splash everywhere she goes. And I love that about her. I love that she's not afraid to be unapologetically herself. And I want to be like that too, I really do, it's just, I'm not quite there yet. I need more time.”

“How much more time, Eve?” huffs Oksana, clearly starting to get frustrated with her. “You keep saying that and it's been _months_ since we started dating. Are you really so afraid of what the media will say about that? People don't care about that sort of thing anymore. It's commonplace. It's _in_ right now. Seems like every other female artist is bi these days. No one is going to care. And you _know_ that.” She pauses a moment, face falling further. “So the only conclusion I can draw here is that _I'm_ the issue.”

“What? No of course not, Oksana.” She cups her face. “I love you. I _love_ you. That's not in question here. I just can't do it yet...not until the divorce is finalized-”

Oksana pulls away from her. “Can't you get that fast-tracked? Don't you have some connections?”

“It's already going as fast as it can, Oksana.”

“Well, what difference does it make if we're seen together _before_ it's finalized?” complains Oksana sourly. “Everyone knows, Eve. They _know_ we're together. We never fooled anyone. Not really.”

“Niko doesn't want us confirmed until the divorce is finalized,” she says lamely.

“Fuck him,” barks Oksana. “I've already fucking done way more than I should have for that piece of shi-”

“We don't want to rile him up again, Oks-” she cowardly tries once more.

“I already told you,” snaps Oksana, “you don't have to _worry_ about that anymore.”

“And why was that again?” she returns with some heat. “You never did fill in the blanks for me.”

They face off for a few beats, a few very familiar beats. It seemed like every other day they were fighting about something or other, which wasn't exactly an encouraging foundation to build ones future on. Thanks to therapy, Oksana's temper is better than it once was, but still far from contained.

Right about now she'd expect Oksana to blow a gasket, but instead she simply grumbles, “I'm beyond tired of being cooped up in this damn hotel, Eve.” She rests her forehead against hers, sighs deeply. “I just want to take you out and treat you the way you deserve. Is that so much to ask?”

Oksana expressed a similar sentiment after that fantastic birthday fuck in the bathroom. That time Eve had used Niko as an excuse too. And Eve couldn't keep doing that to her. She wouldn't. It was time to be bold and fight for what she wanted and damn the consequences.

“No. You're right,” she sighs right back after a lengthy pause. “I'm being paranoid for no reason. If you say Niko isn't a threat anymore, then I believe you. As soon as we wrap, I would love to go with you to Greece.”

Oksana pulls back enough to look her in the eyes. “Really?”

“Really, really,” she smiles, both thrilled and terrified at the prospect.

Oksana's face lights up, and she squeals, literally squeals like a pig, and tackles her to the bed with a flurry of kisses seemingly everywhere.

 

*

 

The gunshot rings out loud and clear and Jodie freezes in terror as Sandra is hit and she goes down. Jodie charges at the final adversary, completely numb to her own well being and survival. He shoots at her too, but he's out of bullets, and Jodie tackles him like a linebacker and slams him to the ground, beating him senseless and then choking him to death. She gets up stiffly then, battle worn and brokenhearted and goes over to Sandra who is...groaning and sitting up.

The whole fire station is shot up and full of dead bodies, mostly agents who didn't realize they were working for the bad guys all along. One of which is Sean. Despite how annoying he was, Jodie feels badly about his demise, but he's gone now, and her wife, her beautiful wife is still kicking against all odds.

“Sandra!” she exclaims mustering up the last of her energy to run over to her. She slides to a halt right beside her, like a baseball player sliding to home.

Jodie holds Sandra in her arms as she groans again, clutching at her chest.

“Damn, that hurts,” wheezes Sandra. “They tell you it's going to hurt, but it _really_ hurts.”

Jodie can see through the tear in her shirt that she's wearing a bulletproof vest, something she herself had neglected to put on due to lack of time.

“You scared me half to death,” says Jodie, kissing the top of her head.

“Well, now you know how it feels,” replies Sandra, with a look that is more Eve than anything else. And how much longer was Eve going to hold _that_ over her head?

“Can you stand?” says Jodie.

Sandra nods. “We should probably get out of here soon anyway. Before the reinforcements arrive.”

“Good thinking,” says Jodie helping her to her feet. “I knew there was a reason I married you,” she adds, glancing towards her ass, to which Sandra rolls her eyes.

“Do you _ever_ stop having dirty thoughts?” asks Sandra as they begin to make their way to the exit.

“Nope. That's pretty much all that goes on up there. Well, _that_ , and your mother's rendition of _Imagine_. Truly inspiring stuff.”

Sandra smacks her arm and Jodie grins. They slide down the pole one by one, Jodie steadying Sandra afterwards, wrapping her arm around her waist. They smile at one another and then continue moving forward.

“And that's a wrap people!” calls Bill a few seconds afterwards, to which there's general applause from the cast and crew.

Oksana grins at Eve, who grins back. Then Eve gets a weird look on her face and Oksana raises an eyebrow in question. Without warning, Eve grabs her and pulls her into a kiss. Right there in front of everyone. For a moment there's utter silence like right after they finished the sex scene, but then someone shouts, “Fucking finally!”, echoing her own thoughts, and the applause and cheering bursts forth again with a vengeance. It only intensifies when Eve dips her and deepens the kiss, and that same asshole from before wolf whistles his approval.

Unfortunately Eve's misjudged her level of strength and shortly thereafter she's dropping Oksana and falling on top of her – to much amusement from their boisterous audience. It's especially painful because Eve is still wearing the very real and hefty bulletproof vest, which is currently digging into her unarmoured side.

Eve seems embarrassed by her misstep so Oksana cups the side of her face and says, “Well, damn, Mrs. Smith, that was some kiss. It literally knocked me off my feet.”

Eve makes that adorable face where she squeezes her mouth off to the side when she's trying hard not to laugh. “Oh, do be quiet, Mrs. Smith,” she says instead, and kisses her again.

“In any case,” says Bill, once the hullabaloo calms down a bit, “the wrap party is being hosted at Watergate. Everyone should be there for eight. See you then.”

 

*

Even before she enters the club, she's hit with a wave of sound. Already she's regretting not bringing her hearing protectors with her. Then she scowls at herself for thinking like such an old person. If she wanted to keep up with Oksana in future, she needed to loosen up a bit more.

Watergate is one of the trendier Berlin clubs and that's doubly apparent when she goes in and is greeted with flashing, multicolour lights running across the ceiling the entire length of the dance floor. The dance floor that is packed. It's going to be difficult to find Oksana in this mess and immediately she's reminded of her first shoot day, which is doubly ironic because she's literally wearing an outfit from that day. Not hers, but Oksana's. The same Dries Van Noten power suit with the harlequin-like pattern. The one she had found so striking. Somehow she had convinced Charlotte to tailor it to fit her instead.

She passes by many familiar faces, but not the one she wants to see. For once she showed up fashionably late and now she's paying the price. Eventually she makes her way to some stairs and heads up. It's a lot less flashy and noisy up here, but still pretty loud. There aren't as many people packed in, which lets her maneuver faster towards the food section, which is precisely where she finally spots her, stuffing her face.

To say that Oksana is surprised by her outfit, would have been a grave understatement. Even from a distance in the dim lighting, Oksana is clearly very turned on as Eve stalks towards her. She knows this because Oksana stops eating mid bite. Very few things can make her do that. It's an effort not to show just how pleased she is with this development and maintain her unaffected facade. Especially with the outfit Oksana is wearing.

Tonight she's in a shiny, sleek, pink cocktail dress, with an almost indecent neckline and hemline, which meant that both her tits, and her long, lean and toned legs were amply on display. And Oksana knew very well that those parts of her body drove her wild.

Something they both have in common is that their hair is down and they're both undressing each other with their eyes.

More than one eye follows her progress to her target, and she can't help but smirk when she notes Oksana's swallow.

Eve hooks an arm around her waist and greets her with a kiss. It was so liberating doing that on set, and now she's finding it difficult to stop touching Oksana whenever they're in public. If this is what Oksana has been going through for the past couple of months, Eve is in awe of her restraint.

When she pulls back, Oksana gives her another heart-eyed look like on set and then looks her up and down appreciatively. “You clean up good, Mrs. Smith,” says Oksana into her ear.

And apparently they were still doing that. Okay, Eve could play along, at least for a little while.

“Thank you, Mrs. Smith. You're looking lovely tonight as well.” She pulls her closer. “I'm going to enjoy fucking you senseless on the kitchen table when this is all over.”

Oksana shudders at her words, her pupils blown out a bit more since her approach. She notices then that Oksana is wearing earplugs, the custom made type that is molded to fit the inner shape of your ear. The same kind that musicians wore nowadays. Eve's about to comment, but Bill and Elena appear then with a bottle of champagne in hand.

“We can _finally_ pop this now that you've arrived,” says Elena, smirking at Eve. She looks between them. “I wasn't interrupting anything important, was I?”

Elena says this innocently enough, but all four of them damn well know she's not as cool as she's claimed about them being a thing again, especially not now when she has to witness it first hand.

Eve bites down her irritation and instead smiles and says, “No, not at all.” She gestures to the champagne. “By all means, pop away.”

Elena does so on her first attempt, an impressive feat, and then pours them all a glass.

“To a job well done,” says Bill, holding up his glass, to which they mirror.

“To the _friends_ we made along the way,” says Elena, with another pointed look between them. 

“And to crushing our enemies and seeing them driven before us,” says Oksana in an Arnold Schwarzenegger accent very loudly, which garners the strangest look of all.

Eve rolls her eyes at her... _girlfriends_ silliness and clinks glasses with the lot of them before taking a sip. Then they stand there awkwardly staring at one another. It's the first time they've all been together like this since her birthday, and things hadn't changed much since then it appeared.

Bill was much more understanding of the situation now that she had explained it better, but things were also still strained between them, and she wasn't sure they'd ever fully get back to their normal. Not unlike with Elena. But they were at least making the effort to be civil and get along, which is much more than many would get.

“So...we actually managed to pull it off in the end,” says Bill. “And on schedule. It's a damn miracle.”

“Yeah, we were lucky all right, considering,” she says.

“Any plans then?” prompts Bill again when the conversation immediately lags.

She looks to Oksana then Elena, then back to Bill. “We're going to Greece.”

“We? As in...” he looks between the two of them. “Are you sure that's wise, Eve?”

“Wise or not, we're going.”

“Good luck being trapped on an island with _that_ one,” jokes Elena.

“Oksana is great company actually,” defends Eve, wrapping her arm around her waist again. “You'd know that if you ever _bothered_ to take the time to get to know her.”

Elena looks uncomfortable at that and she feels slightly bad about lashing out. She was just so sick and tired of their rivalry. Elena lost. She had to deal with it and make amends if she wanted to continue to be a part of Eve's life.

“Look,” she sighs, “I just want you two to be friends. Can you do that for me?”

“Sure,” says Oksana easily.

“Fine,” grumbles Elena.

“Give each other a hug now.”

“I don't think that's necessa-” and “Surely a handshake would-”

“Hug each other right now,” demands Eve.

With barely restrained grimaces, they embrace for a few seconds and then pull apart. Elena takes a long draught of her champagne afterwards.

“Should I be hugging her too?” says Bill to Eve, overly eager. She was embarrassed for him.

“In your dreams, boss,” winks Oksana.

“We've done more than _hug_ in those,” he says impishly.

Eve wants to facepalm at this inappropriate conversation, so typical of the pair of them.

“I always knew you were a dirty old man,” scolds Oksana. “I should report you for sexual harassment.” She holds a hand to the side of her mouth and says, “Just so you know, I've had a sex dream about you too. And it was _very_ spicy. Almost too hot to handle.”

Bill looks like he's going to combust on the spot.

Thankfully the music changes right then, a slower number, and Kenny comes into their circle, and red faced and stuttering, asks Elena to dance. She looks between them for a moment and then agrees, to Kenny's astonishment.

Bill goes off shortly thereafter, either to talk with some other folks outside on the terrace, or to jump into the river to cool off.

Kenny's clearly not accustomed to dancing as he's stepping on Elena's toes every few seconds, getting redder and redder.

Oksana snorts and leans in sideways to say, “Poor Elena.”

“Hey, be nice. He's not _that_ bad.”

“Come _on_ , Eve,” says Oksana rolling her eyes. “ _You_ would never go for someone like Kenny.”

“I did though.”

“What?” says Oksana, taken aback.

“Niko was _exactly_ like that when we first met.”

“You're shitting me,” says Oksana in disgust. “You _like_ that bumbling good boy charm?”

“Once upon a time.” She side-eyes Oksana. “Now I seem to have a thing for the bad guys.” Oksana smirks and Eve says, “Now, are you going to ask me to dance, or do I have to?”

More than once Oksana had lamented her inability to do such a thing, so Eve was a little surprised that she hadn't immediately jumped at the opportunity tonight.

“Nah, I'm good.”

“You're kidding me.”

“What?” she shrugs. “It was a long day. I'm tired.”

“Stop playing around.”

“I'm not. I really don't feel like it, Eve. I almost didn't even come tonight.”

Eve can't believe her ears. She had thought Oksana was simply messing with her, but now it appears she's being serious. Well, two could play at that.

“Oksana, if you don't dance with me right now I'll ask Elena for the next three slow dances.”

“You wouldn't,” says Oksana narrowing her gaze, tensing.

Eve just turns on her heel with the full intention of following through, but Oksana grabs her hand and pulls her back. Eve smirks to herself victoriously before facing a sour looking Oksana again.

“You really know how to push my buttons, don't you devil woman?”

“I'll do more than push your _buttons_ later tonight, Mrs. Smith,” she says, discreetly squeezing a tit between their bodies.

Oksana's eyes darken again. “You better make good on your promises, Mrs. Smith, or I may have to file for divorce.”

Eve must make a face at that line because Oksana mutters, “Sorry,” and then leads her onto the dance floor.

Now that they're actually out here, Oksana seems to have perked up a bit, reveling in getting to hold Eve close in front of everyone. It's almost indecent really how close they're pressed together right now, hands traveling lower and lower down backs, but Eve doesn't give two shits how it looks.

It had been years since anyone had taken her out dancing, but her practice for the movie was paying off now, so she wasn't totally rusty and making a fool of herself like Kenny. Not that she probably _could_ have even if she tried, he was truly terrible, as if he had never danced with anyone ever.

Eve rests her head on Oksana's upper chest/shoulder area and sighs contentedly as they continue to sway back and forth to the soft ballad, a welcome relief from the blaring techno.

“What are you thinking?” asks Oksana.

“Nothing. I'm just happy.”

“Mhmm,” replies Oksana. “You excited to go to Greece?”

“Yes. Should be fun. And Lord knows I could do with the TLC,” she adds suggestively.

“What does that one mean again? Tits, legs and cu-”

Eve pinches her side to get her to stop her rude joke.

“Wow, that was rude,” complains Oksana. “I know how much you love my cu-”

“Do you always talk this much when you dance?” she says exasperatedly. They were having a pleasant moment and for some reason Oksana felt compelled to ruin it.

“Only when I'm trying to keep myself awake.”

“Sorry to be so boring.”

Oksana chuckles. “You're not boring me, Eve. You could never bore me. Like I said, I'm just exhausted.” She squeezes her ass so sneakily Eve's not even sure it actually happened. “I need to do something a little more stimulating to keep myself going tonight.”

“And I told you, _later_.” Oksana pouts, or at least, that's what Eve _assumes_ she's doing. “God, it's like I'm dating a grandma.”

“Excuse me?”

“It's not even nine o'clock and already you want to go to bed. You have bladder issues. You think it's too noisy. Next you're going to tell me that you have a bad hip too.”

“Well, actually...”

Eve pulls back to stare at her, and Oksana looks vaguely embarrassed, eyes on the floor.

“You're shitting me,” she says, jaw dropping.

“What?” pouts Oksana, a slight tinge of red to her cheeks. “You fell on me _really_ hard.”

Rather than take pity on her, Eve breaks down into hysterical laughter so loud that plenty of heads turn their way. She's laughing so hard she can't even manage to stop Oksana when she sulks off somewhere through the throng of dancers.

When she finally gets herself under control, it doesn't take her long to relocate Oksana by the food. Once again stuffing her face.

“Hey, I'm sorry,” she says, stepping right up to her. “You have to admit though, it's pretty funny.”

Oksana shoots her another glare and continues to angrily chow down on some mini quiche.

“Don't be like that. Come back and dance with me some more.”

She takes Oksana's free hand and tries to drag her back but Oksana resists and says, “You were very rude to me, Eve. You hurt my feelings.”

“I said I was sorry.”

“I'd rather you make it up to me with action. Not words.”

Eve blinks at her once she gets her meaning. “What, like right here?”

Oksana stares right back.

So now they're playing chicken right beside the...chicken.

Eve really doesn't know how much of this Oksana planned out and how much of this is simply chance. For all she knows, from the moment Oksana started talking on the dance floor, she already had these wheels in motion. Hell, it could have been from the moment she saw her. Eve wouldn't put it past her. Oksana could be a devious little fucker when she wanted to get her way. And as much as Eve realizes that she's likely being played right now, she's thrilled by the challenge of doing this right here in the open. She's never done anything so bold in her life.

“Well, if you're sure,” she says, pressing in close again.

She notes Oksana's eyes widen a little, as if she hadn't expected Eve to actually follow through. Eve walks her backwards until she's pressed against the floor to ceiling window overlooking the River Spree.

She slides a hand down to her hip, squeezes.

Either this _isn't_ the sore hip or she was right and Oksana _was_ making the whole thing up on the off chance she could orchestrate this exact scenario.

“This a fantasy of yours then?” she asks, as she lets her fingers trail down Oksana's thigh until they reach the edge of her sinfully short dress. “You want me to fuck you in front of all our peers? That get you hot, Oksana?” she mutters into her ear.

Eve can literally hear the gulp that Oksana releases and she's pretty sure it's not food related.

She smirks to herself, then dips her fingers under the silky material and up a short distance to the underside of Oksana's lingerie. And it's definitely not granny panties she has on tonight, but probably those sexy red ones that she knows Eve loves to peel off with her teeth. Eve might have been feeling bold tonight, but _that_ probably would have been a bit much right here.

Oksana gasps a little when Eve pushes her underwear off to the side and slides her fingers through her already sopping wet folds.

She chuckles lowly in her ear. “Guess that's a yes then.”

She pushes Oksana's button a number of times before sliding back down to her entrance, teasing it with the tip of her finger over and over again. Already Oksana's squirming against her, breath ragged.

“Are you absolutely sure you want me to fuck you here, Oksana?”

The only response is a high pitched whine.

Without further ado she sinks a finger in and gets to work, agonizingly slowly. She's enjoying this power trip, having Oksana completely under her thrall. However they ultimately got here, didn't matter.

Eve starts kissing her neck, and Oksana's fingers dig into her sides when she adds another finger and picks up the pace a bit. She can hear the moans as well as sense the vibrations, and she knows if the music and crowd wasn't so rowdy, what they were doing right now would probably be getting broadcast to the entire room.

Eve knows she's close when she feels the walls tightening more and more around her fingers.

And that's when Eve suddenly stops, pulls out and rests her slick fingers on Oksana's equally slick thigh.

Oksana groans at the lose of contact and looks over at her hazily. “What are you doing, Eve?” she complains, breath heavy. “I was almost finished.”

“I know,” she answers with a smug smirk. “I also know you've been manipulating me tonight...and I thought we promised each other we wouldn't do that anymore?” 

“Eve, please. I need you. Just a little bit more.”

“I also know that you were hoping that Sauer would take the shot,” she says, fingers digging into Oksana's thigh, “that I would come running over to your side on live TV and out myself for certain. Tell me I'm wrong.”

Oksana bites her lip and says, “Yes, okay. I thought there was a chance that might happen.”

“And if he had shot you in the head? What use would _that_ have been, Oksana?”

“Didn't we already go through this?” whines Oksana. “It was a stupid, desperate plan. I already admitted as much. Now would you please finish fucking me before I combust?”

“You're so over dramatic,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “And no, I don't think I will.”

“Are you fucking serious, right now?” says Oksana disbelievingly. “You're just going to leave me hanging?”

“It's not fun, is it?”

Eve grabs Oksana's wrist to stop her from finishing herself off and Oksana glares at her and clenches her thighs together.

“What, is this about the other night?”

“You just _had_ to tell me you loved me right then, huh? You weren't perhaps trying to hijack the situation, to ensure I would return the favour, were you?”

“Yes, okay, you got me again, Eve,” says Oksana glancing away. “I was insecure about what you would say...or _not_ say...I had never said it to anyone before. Not sincerely anyway...”

“You can't do shit like that in future. Not about important things.”

“I won't. I swear I won't. Please, Eve,” says Oksana giving her her best puppy dog eyed look. “I need you.”

Eve's still pissed but she does understand where Oksana is coming from, so she sticks her fingers back in and pumps her to completion, which takes barely any time at all. Damn, it was a wonder Oksana was even able to keep standing, let alone hold a coherent conversation.

Oksana clutches onto her tightly until the aftershocks subside. “Thank you,” murmurs Oksana. “Thank you for doing exactly what I wanted you to do.”

“What?”

“You really think I didn't know you would be withholding after everything I put you through? _That_ was my fantasy, Eve. Not doing this in public. You're too nice in the bedroom. You never let me suffer long enough.”

“You're lying,” she says. “You're just saying that now to get the upper hand back.”

“Believe whatever you want, Eve,” says Oksana, chipper as anything. “Now, let's party!”

And just like that, Oksana has all this energy and suddenly becomes the life of the party. Which meant one of two things. Either she _had_ in fact still been played, or Oksana was simply acting as though everything had gone according to plan. Eve doesn't think she'll ever know the real truth.

As infuriating as that is, she can't help but to join in the dance again. Ironically the song is ' _Secret Agent Man_ '. It's a good song but it also pisses her off because she remembers when she was a kid, other kids would mock her by singing, “Secret Asian Man,” over and over again in her and her friend Keiko's face. And she would want to kick them in the balls – not unlike Oksana right now - but there were always too many witnesses.

When it gets to the second verse, all she can do is shake her head and try not to laugh as Oksana dances around her and shout sings along, “BEWARE OF PRETTY FACES THAT YOU FIND! A PRETTY FACE CAN HIDE AN EVIL MIND!” she grins wickedly at Eve. “OH BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU SAY! OR YOU'LL GIVE YOURSELF AWAY! ODDS ARE YOU WON'T LIVE TO SEE TOMOOOOROOOOW!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now THIS fucking song is stuck in my head instead. Thanks past self!
> 
> The bulletproof vest in the first scenario would've been custom made at no small expense, and far less bulky and noticeable than the one Eve wore in the show and in this movie. And just for clarifications sake, the flash of light was the scope reflection of Sauer's sniper rifle, but the gun shot was from a different cop/weapon. Anyway, I think we can safely say we've seen the last of him. Good riddance. On to other shit. ;)
> 
> Just FYI they stole some stuff from set and one of the things Eve took was the firefighter calendar that featured her 'wife'. And Oksana is like, “If you didn't take it, I would have. I look hot!” And Eve would've been like, “Was that a firefighter joke?” And Oksana would've just winked at her.
> 
> I'm very good at writing serious love confessions/scenes. I'm sure it was everything you had been hoping for and more. :P
> 
> I 100% had to set the next bit in Greece after playing Odyssey. Oksana's the eagle bearer after all LOL
> 
> If I could write the last of this before the finale, that would be great. But it's probably just a pipe dream at this point. So if it doesn't get updated again for awhile, don't be too surprised...


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “How we WANT the season to end and how it WILL end are probably two very different things and we're probably not prepared for the worst. In conclusion, I don't think any of us will survive the finale.”--LOL that's what I said two chapters ago...and it came true and I STILL wasn't prepared. If this is what Phoebe meant by girl on girl action, she's got a twisted sense of humour. :P

“Good morning, this is your captain speaking,” says the chipper German voice. “Takeoff will commence in T minus ten minutes. If you have any questions or concerns at any point during the flight, please don't hesitate to ask our lovely and talented flight attendants. And if for some reason they are unable to help, I'll personally see to their dismissal mid flight. That goes doubly for any annoying babies or entitled manchildren. Good day and enjoy your flight with Astankova Airlines.” She smirks towards her co-pilot, Jess, and back in her normal accent says, “How was that?”

“Brilliant as always captain,” responds Jess, rolling her eyes. “I'm sure the passengers will be greatly reassured by your uplifting words.”

Oksana's not sure if that was a flying joke or not, but either way, she winks and says, “I'll be right back.”

“I'll be waiting with bated breath.”

Oksana pops open the cockpit and ventures out into the seated area...where her sole passenger is sipping on a glass of sparkling water.

Eve looks over at her and also rolls her eyes. “Having fun are we?”

“The fun's just getting started,” she replies, scooping off her pilots hat and placing it on Eve's head. It's a custom made hat complete with her own fake airline symbol stitched into it. She takes Eve's drink out of hand and tugs her to her feet. “Come on, I'm going to teach you how to fly.”

“Wha-what?” stutters Eve immediately putting on the breaks, jarring Oksana's arm. “That's crazy, Oksana, I've never even been in the cockpit before-”

“Well, today's your lucky day,” she says, pulling a reluctant Eve along the narrow corridor. “You're going to get us off the ground, captain.”

Eve starts resisting her even more fiercely. “Oksana, seriously, this can't possibly be legal. I'll end up killing us all in a fiery crash before we even _get_ off the ground.”

“Takeoff is easy-peasy, Eve, it's the landing that's difficult.”* She turns to face Eve, puts her hands on her shoulders. “Do you trust me?”

The question was perhaps more loaded than she had intended, as Eve clearly becomes uncomfortable under her rapt gaze.

“Most of the time.”

She supposes she can't be too resentful that the answer isn't 'always', but even so she _is_ a little ticked off that Eve _still_ can't seem to fully believe in _her_ , in _them_. No doubt this was part of Eve's resistance to going public, despite her reassurances to the contrary. No point dealing with the potential scandal if she thinks the whole thing will implode soon after and Oksana will end up in someone else's bed again.

“Well, then, you can _mostly_ trust me to direct you correctly.”

It probably comes out a bit persnickety but she doesn't care and just pulls Eve the rest of the way into the cockpit.

Jess raises an eyebrow at their abrupt appearances, looks pointedly at the hat on Eve's head and says, “Guess I'll be taking five then,” gets up and exits the space, giving Oksana full rein of the situation. She turns back and says to Eve, “Don't worry, she's a surprisingly good teacher. After all,” smirks Jess smugly, “she learned from the best.”

Eve opens her mouth beseechingly, as if she expected her co-pilot to have more common sense than her, to lay down the law. Jess knew better than to argue with her. Only very rarely had she intervened when Oksana got a little too _creative_ with the controls mid flight. As fun as it was to fly a commercial jet, it was generally boring. Once you were up in the air, there was very little to do, like putting a car on auto-pilot on a long highway road, but even more boring because there was almost never any traffic or other obstacles to contend with. She hopes to one day fly an actual fighter jet but simply hasn't gotten around to it.

“Go on then,” says Oksana, gesturing to the captains chair, “take a seat.”

Finally, Eve seems resigned to her fate and does as told. Oksana takes the co-pilots spot and then starts explaining what all of the relevant instruments are for and how to operate them. Once she's pretty sure Eve's got a basic grasp of the concepts, she directs her to turn on the craft, and it thrums to life with its usual impressive vitality. It wasn't the fastest commercial jet on the market, but it was no slouch either.

Eve is apprehensive again, wiping her hands on her pants multiple times and then looking over at Oksana with a vaguely pained expression. “Do I _really_ have to do this?”

Oksana sighs, puts a hand on her knee. “I _know_ you can do this. But if you really don't want to, then you don't have to. I just thought it would be fun. You never know when the opportunity might next present itself.”

That hadn't meant to sound ominous, like this vacation of theirs would also be their last, but it kind of did.

“All right, let's do this,” concedes Eve, to her utter delight.

They taxi to the runway in a constant stop and go manner that would likely be giving her whiplash if they weren't moving so slowly. Eve's handling her jet like a typical American who doesn't understand how a manual car works. Finally when they're all lined up with the runway and they're given the go ahead from control - she answers herself of course, Eve was right, this wasn't strictly legal and if they could prove what she was doing, would probably revoke her own license - she gets Eve to rev up the engine and reach critical speed, at which point all Eve has to do is pull back gently on the yoke a little and they're off.

For a second it seems like she's not going to do it, and Oksana prepares to either do it herself, or put on the emergency brakes, but then she feels the tell tale G forces on liftoff and cancels her interference.

Eve's eyes are practically closed by the time they're in the air, but once she opens them and realizes they achieved liftoff, she shrieks with joy, as much for not turning them into a fireball of death as for accomplishing the goal successfully.

She turns to Oksana, face wild with electric wonder. “DID YOU SEE THAT?!! I DID IT!! I'M FLYING!! HOLY SHIT!! THIS IS AMAZING!! I'M FLYYYYING!!!”

Oksana feels all light as a feather watching Eve react this way, and if possible falls a little more in love right there and then.

 

*

 

Oksana steers the speedboat into the harbour with a well practiced hand, gliding effortlessly towards the dock after she cuts the engine. Once she ties them up good and proper, she offers her hand to Eve, who takes it with a smile and hops out onto the dock. The dock attendant would see to their luggage, like any other bellboy.

With everything packed into the front of a blue Audi R8, Oksana drives them up the winding road to the top of the mountain. It's a somewhat difficult to get to place and a bit isolated, but worth it for the solitude and the epic view. The latter of which she's currently enjoying. Endless expanses of crystal clear blue sea, lush green rolling hills, white sandy beaches. More or less they're standing in a postcard. A postcard that smells of the sweetest air she's ever known, or perhaps she's just taking in Eve's scent. She loves her home away from home. Well, _one_ of her homes away from home.

The villa itself is also striking, with its charming double decker pink facade, its magnificent entrance way, and its spacious and luxurious interior, complete with chandelier. The piece de resistance though, the one that always got everyone talking, was the delightful pool shaped like a uterus. The ovaries were hot tubs and you could literally swim along the Fallopian tubes connecting the main hub.

Oksana sighs contentedly, looking forward to getting some much deserved vacation, and alone time, with Eve. She doesn't have long to contemplate this or admire the view before the most odious voice known to man calls her name.

_Of all the rotten luck..._

She very pointedly keeps her eyes centre forward, across the open sea. “Ugh, _he's_ here. Just ignore him.”

“Oh my God. Is that-”

“Yes,” she says tersely.

“You're neighbours with-”

“Yes, all right. Big deal. Come on, let's get indoors before-”

“Oh my God, he's looking in my direction.”

“ _Eve_ ,” she hisses as Eve disregards her and waves.

He comes jogging over, shirtless, like he thinks he's on Baywatch again. Eve goes over to meet him half way, fiddling with her hair all the while. Oksana follows gracelessly behind, doing her best not to groan out loud at having to deal with this asshole again. This asshole who never seemed to be properly clothed.

“Howdy, neighbour!” he exclaims on his imminent approach.

“Zac,” she says with a forced smile, begrudgingly accepting his bear hug and being lifted off the ground. He's got _way_ too much cologne on as per usual.

He puts her down and says, “Didn't know you were going to be here. Glad you are though. The rest of my party doesn't arrive until tomorrow and I'm bored! Do you want to try out my new state of the art VR system with me?”

The fact that he came to this beautiful place and wants to wile away the hours somewhere else, somewhere fake, is frankly infuriating. Yet another strike against him.

“Well, we just got in as you can _clearly_ see, so we would rather not entertain at the moment. Why don't you go bounce some quarters off your abs?”

“Just finished doing that, actually,” he replies cheekily, patting his stomach, which draws Eve's attention to it. Not that she's stopped staring at his perfectly chiseled abs since he unnecessarily jogged over.

Eve laughs over enthusiastically at that and Zac grins at her with his too perfect teeth and then holds out a hand. “Nice to meet you. I'm Zac.”

“Eve,” says Eve, slightly breathless, twisting her hair absentmindedly. “The pleasure is all mine.”

This was already a million times worse than having to deal with Niko. _He_ at least wasn't a threat. This asshole though...

“I really loved you in your latest project,” gushes Eve. “Chilling stuff.”

“Yeah, well,” says Zac, clearly uncomfortable, crossing his arms, making his biceps bulge even more. Predictably, Eve can't take her eyes off them. “Not the sort of thing I ever thought I'd do. But I do like to challenge myself every once in awhile. That's how we got to be such good buds.”

He looks to Oksana with a wink and she rolls her eyes, restraining the urge to punch him in his pretty face. She's pretty sure he fancies her but she doesn't care how nice his smile is or how many abs he has, she'll _never_ be interested. Not after what he did.

“You were in that horror flick with the axe wielding maniac, right?”

“Yes, that was me!” says Eve.

“The ingenious way your character took him down at the end was inspired stuff. And I especially liked your facial acting choices. Just right. Not overdone,” he looks to Oksana then back to Eve, “like some.”

Eve giggles and blushes at his compliments and Oksana is internally seething and fantasizing about his demise with an axe to the face, or the abs. She's not picky.

There's a bit of an awkward lull and then Zac looks between them and says, “So...what's the situation here?”

“None of your business,” says Oksana grumpily. She can't even be bothered to pretend to be nice at this point, not with Eve practically salivating over him.

“We're together,” says Eve, startling her and Zac. She had thought Eve was on cloud nine right now and oblivious to her and her feelings.

“Oh...well,” he looks to Oksana with a barely restrained pout, “that's something.” He looks back to Eve. “If you managed to snag _this_ one, you must have great wisdom.” He does prayer hands and bows like a hipster moron. “Tell me your ways, master.”

Once again Eve laughs way more than is warranted, which is not at all, and returns the prayer hands, and bowing, says, “Wisdom comes with age. You must learn of this ancient wooing technique on your own.”

And seriously? She didn't know Eve could be so dorky and lame and it's honestly a bit upsetting to be in love with her in this particular moment in time.

“Well in any case, I'm having a house party in a couple of days. If you're free, you could stop by and-”

“We have a packed schedule. No time for that. Sorry,” she says beginning to steer Eve away.

“Ah, well. That's too bad. It'd be cool to hang again. It's been awhile.”

“We'll do our best to make time,” says Eve, to which Zac lights up and Oksana darkens.

“But it will be difficult with all the sex we're going to be having,” she says pettily. “Bye.” As soon as they're out of earshot she mutters, “Come on, we're leaving.”

“What?”

“I don't want to be here when he's here.”

“That's ridiculous, Oksana. We're not leaving. We just got here.”

“But-”

“No buts. We're staying.”

“If I didn't know any better I'd say you fancied him,” she accuses as she speeds them towards her sanctuary with a firm hand to Eve's lower back.

“And you don't?”

“No. He's sooo annoying. And he clearly wants in my pants.”

_Or your pants._

“He was just being friendly, Oksana,” scoffs Eve. “Not everyone wants to sleep with you.”

“But if he did, would you be jealous?”

“Of course I would. He's young and insanely hot.”

_I'm young and insanely hot!_

“He's not _that_ good looking. You're _much_ hotter.”

“Be serious, Oksana,” says Eve incredulously.

“I am. He thinks he's all that,” she says sourly, “but he's really not. And I don't buy his good boy charm for one moment. He probably _has_ murdered some women. They're probably buried in his basement as we speak.”

“Jesus Christ, Oksana. Zac Efron is _not_ an actual serial killer.”

“That's what he _wants_ you to think,” she says darkly, as she turns the key in the lock.

“You're impossible,” says Eve exasperatedly, pushing passed her through the threshold. “I'm getting a drink.”

And great, now she's managed to mess this up already. Stupid Zac always put her in a foul mood. She grumbles the location of the booze to Eve when she asks, and then plops down on the Sultan like sofa, that could easily seat ten, and continues to scheme Zac's demise.

Eve comes back over with a mojito in hand. Instead of sitting across from her or beside her, she sits right in her lap, leans back into her, and Oksana's mood immediately lightens as Eve's luscious hair gets in her face and tickles her nose. She inhales her like she always does and tries to ignore how bony Eve's ass is.

There's silence for a little while except for the sound of the ice clinking in the glass every time Eve takes a sip. The contents are quickly dispatched, the glass set aside. “Why do you hate him so much?”

“You mean beyond your obvious flirting?” she bristles.

“I _wasn't_ flirting with him.”

“I'm not blind, Eve. You looked like you wanted to lick ice cream off his abs.”

Eve huffs and tries to get up but she tightens her arm around her stomach and keeps her in check.

“He stole this girl I was interested in at the time...at my _own_ house party!” she complains.

Eve stops restraining against her grip and asks, “Who was it?”

“Michelle Rodriguez,” she admits.

It was one of the only times someone had one upped her game and she's never been able to forgive Zac as a consequence. The even more annoying thing is, she's not sure if Zac is oblivious to what he did to her, or pretending to be.

“Damn. That's unforgivable.”

“Thank you!”

Eve turns her head around enough so that Oksana can see her smirk, and Oksana scowls, realizing Eve isn't being serious.

Eve shifts even more so that she's fully facing her. “So...you're worried if we go to his house party, he'll do the same again?”

She frowns. “Are you saying I have a _reason_ to be worried?”

“Maybe. He _does_ have a really cute butt. I'd love to bounce quarters off it.”

Then Eve pinches her side in that one spot that always hurts like hell and she automatically releases her hold and Eve winks at her and runs away. This was a frequent game they played, of cat and mouse. Who was the cat and who was the mouse alternated from time to time, but generally she was the one stalking after Eve. It almost always ended with them having sex. At this point it was pretty much their go to foreplay. They've never had this much space to play in before though, normally being relegated to an individual hotel room.

So the chase goes on longer than usual, first around the living room, then the spacious kitchen, then up the stairs, in and out of the bedrooms, the balcony, down the stairs, around the living room again, into the backyard and around the pool multiple times until they're both panting for breath and facing off across the cervix.

“Giving up so easily?” taunts Eve, sticking out her tongue.

“I'm gonna get you, Eve,” warns Oksana, taking off again. “One way or another.”

Eve doesn't recuperate quite as quickly as she does, and just stands there as Oksana goes to grab her.

But then Eve steps aside at the last instant and Oksana goes tumbling into the pool instead. The highly chlorinated pool. Fully clothed. In her good shoes.

Eve laughs at her as she emerges, grumpy faced and rigid like an actual cat. She's beyond irritated at falling for the oldest trick in the book, but before she can complain too much, or attempt to drag Eve in with her, Eve jumps in of her own accord, splashing her a ton in the face.

Eve then wraps her arms around her neck and legs around her waist and says, “How many people have you had sex with in this very spot?”

“I don't know,” she says truthfully. Eve raises an eyebrow at that, like she doesn't quite believe her. “Does it bother you? All the people I've slept with before you?”

It's a question that's been on her mind for some time. But she's never been brave enough to bring it up. She always feared that if they got into this particular topic, into all of their sexual partners, Eve would likely be disgusted with her, and make a break for it. The media only knew about a fraction of what she had actually gotten up to in the past nine years or so. After the first hundred, she lost count, or more to the point, _stopped_ counting. Most of their faces were blurs, not even worth remembering. Pretty much the only face she cares about now is right before her, and she hopes to continue to look at it for many years to come.

“Once upon a time,” says Eve like she did at the wrap party. “But now I know you're all mine. Without a doubt.”

“Really?” says Oksana, grinning stupidly. She can't believe her good fortune. “No more doubts?”

“None whatsoever.”

Eve kisses her then, sweetly, and as nice as that is, it's getting very tiresome treading water in her shoes and extra layers, at keeping them both afloat. Maybe if she hadn't just run around like that, her thighs could withstand the burn, but as it is, she's got to direct them over to the shallows, which ultimately results in them stripping off and getting into one of the hot tubs, fully nude.

She's not mad about that.

 

*

 

This is their first official public outing as a couple. Surprisingly, Eve seems perfectly at ease. Oksana on the other hand is the anxious one. If this doesn't go well, or it blows up in their faces regardless, that could be the end of them. Despite wanting to do this for so long, she's suddenly not sure she wants to share Eve with the world. And while she knows Kefalonia isn't exactly swarming with paparazzi, there's still plenty of tourists and residents alike that could sound the alarm and have them buzzing in a thick cloud of annoying gnats.

It's almost unheard of for her to be seen out on the town, hand in hand with someone else. The tabloids are all going to be vying for those first exclusive shots of them. After all, this is basically history in the making.

“Are you ready?” asks Eve, before they exit the car.

Apparently Eve's more amused by her nervous demeanor, than sympathetic.

“Yeah, let's do this,” she says, with a tight smile.

From one picturesque village to another, they are stared at. She thinks for the most part it's due to the fact that they're both women. Only a fraction of the people get out their cameras to snap pictures of them. And as used to that as she is by now, it's still annoying. Half decent people wouldn't do that to the average person without getting their consent first. But since you're famous, for some reason the same rules don't apply, and now suddenly you're more like a rare breed of insect than a human being, something to be collected and inspected under the microscope. Or displayed on your wall.

So for her it's always been a lot less about hating the invasion of privacy and a lot more about simple human decency, of manners, of consent. For every ten people that snap a photo of them, only one bothers to actually approach them first and ask for a photo _with_ them. While that also gets annoying after awhile, it's better than the alternative. She doesn't mind so much today because the people, mostly young women, who are approaching them, aren't shy about telling them how much them being together inspires them and gives them hope for the future.

It amuses Oksana because Eve is still technically married and what they're doing is still technically an affair. And if one of them had been a man, people wouldn't be so quick to applaud them. It's a double standard for sure. She supposes that just went to show how desperate the community was for real world representation, that they were willing to overlook this moral quandary without even having all of the facts, or even really, confirmation yet. She wonders if one or both of their manslaughters ever came out, if people would _still_ overlook their misdeeds and defend and ship them together.

After a long day on their feet, and way too much Spanakopita in their bellies, they relax pool side, Black Russians in hand.

“What do the Mafia and pussies have in common?”**

Oksana nearly spits out her drink at the abruptness of that question? Joke? What the fuckery?

She looks towards Eve and quirks an eyebrow. “I don't know. What do they have in common?”

“One slip of the tongue and you're in deep shit.”

They stare at one another for several extended beats and then she breaks down into maniacal laughter. “I never knew you had such a dirty mind, Eve.”

“Sure you did,” grins Eve back.

Eve starts to tell another dirty joke but then a faint hum catches her attention and she looks around them for the source.

“What is that?”

“I don't know...but it sounds like it's getting closer.”

It dawns on her right before it comes into view. It's a fucking drone with a camera attached. The fucking paparazzi had caught wind sooner than she had anticipated. Not even one single day together in a remote location without them trespassing on her property. She has to give them credit though. They were very creative and hadn't wasted any time going straight for the jugular.

She's fuming and flipping them off as per usual. When that predictably fails to produce any results, she starts throwing shit at it, like she would an annoying bug out of reach, but try as she might, she can't quite hit it. Then she remembers that she does in fact have a gun with her. One of the perks of owning your own jet. She just has to go and get it and put her shooting range skills into practical use for the first time and then everything will be golden again.

Right around then there's a loud bang and the drone practically explodes, bits of shrapnel falling into the pool, followed shortly thereafter by the mother ship itself. As it's splashing down, she turns to face Eve who has a determined and fiery look to her eye...and her gun in hand. She didn't even know that Eve knew how to shoot, but she got it on her first attempt in the fading light.

“I've never been more attracted to you than I am right now.”

Eve casually puts the gun down, gets back on the lounge chair and continues telling her dirty jokes, and Oksana keeps laughing, and falling harder and harder, until it almost hurts.

That night shortly after Eve's gone to bed, she gets a phone call, and her face falls. She writes a hastily scrawled note to Eve, lays it on her own pillow, and then leaves Kefalonia, and heads to the airport on the mainland.

She lands down in Paris a few hours later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suddenly was like, why the fuck is it called cockpit? That's so weird. Turns out the word originates from literal cockfights (roosters) in pits in the 1600s. These pits later became known as important areas of business, and in the early 1900s was extended for use with planes.
> 
> *Anyone who's played flight simulator can attest to that lol. I have actually flown a real plane before but never the take off or landing. But I imagine the takeoff would be simple enough. Who's going to write the flying AU where they're co-pilots? XD
> 
> **I'm sorry, I used the joke from The OA. It's not an original one though so I don't feel too bad about 'spoiling' it for a certain someone. (Also, when the F are they going to tell us if it's been renewed or not??)
> 
> I picked Zac because he played Ted Bundy who I share a birthday with...that's pretty much it. XD And supposedly Zac and Michelle did actually date for a few months some years back lol.
> 
> Surprisingly I didn't find a single image result for uterus shaped pool. :P The idea came to me from a nailed it episode in which the superhero she was trying to make looked like a uterus instead...oh and I've been recently watching Fleabag and there's a plot line in there that probably inspired me as well. “Facing off across the cervix” is a line I never thought I'd write. XD
> 
> So as I see it, there's one more chapter and then it's the epilogue. Unless of course the next one gets extended into more. But Dear Lord I hope not as this is already the second longest fic I've ever written and I need it to end soon, for my own sanity. :P


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hold on to your tits, y'all.

She wakes up to find Oksana gone, which is somewhat strange since Oksana is the type to sleep in, and Eve is usually the one to drag her out of bed and go do their morning workout. She notices the note though and takes a gander.

' _Be back so_ _on, OX_ '

Eve shrugs to herself, gets up and goes for a light jog. The car is nowhere to be seen, so Eve assumes Oksana has gone into town, probably to pick up more ice cream. After the drone, they had had a little bit of fun, and Oksana probably wanted to try a different flavour for next time.

When she gets back, showers, and _still_ Oksana hasn't returned, Eve frowns and texts her.

'How much longer are you going to be?'

And a handful of seconds later, 'Where are you?'

There's no response to either of these queries so she tries calling instead. It rings and rings, but there's only radio silence.

Eve shrugs this off again and has a fruit and yogurt filled breakfast. Surely by the time she's finished eating, Oksana will have either gotten back to her or returned?

But she doesn't, and now Eve's starting to get a bit concerned. What if something happened to her? What if she crashed the car going way too fast on those curvy mountain roads? What if she's bleeding out in a ditch somewhere?

She calls once more but there's still no answer, so she makes her way over to Zac's and asks if she can borrow his car to go look for her. He decides to come with, since he's much more familiar with the area, freeing Eve to be on the lookout for any smoking hunk of metal. She of course hopes she _doesn't_ see such a thing, but if she doesn't, then she's even more at a loss as to why Oksana isn't responding.

They head to the nearest town and ask around, and a couple of people recall a car screeching to a halt after midnight, and then the unmistakable sounds of a speedboat taking off. Sure enough, the car is here and the boat is gone.

And what the hell? Why would Oksana have left in the middle of the night to go back to the mainland? It didn't make any sense. And now Eve's even more confused than she was before. What could possibly have been so important that Oksana would abandon her only a day into their first vacation together?

Zac gives her a conciliatory look and then takes her back to his place and tries to cheer her up with his stupid VR system. Surprisingly it works...at least for a little while. Then, inevitably, the fun distraction stops working and she's back to worrying all over again.

While Zac's doing laps in his own pool, she does the thing she said she wouldn't do while they were here. She goes on her phone and starts taking a look at the tabloids, to see what they have to say about her 'coming out' the previous day.

Annoyingly, or perhaps, predictably, it's all about Oksana.

_Has Wild Child Astankova Turned Over A New Leaf?_

_Wild Child Seen With Co-Star On Arm. Will Yang Be Next Victim?_

_Astankova Spotted Kissing Yang In Kefalonia. Could Love Be In The Air?_

Then there were a series of fairly unflattering pictures of them taken from afar, and none from Oksana's property. Apparently they hadn't been smart enough to upload directly to the cloud in real time in case of catastrophe. Didn't matter though, they had still managed to get their hands on a somewhat low resolution photo of them sneaking a quick smooch during their dinner.

She's about to get off her phone when she notices a recent notification from Twitter, which meant it was Oksana related. Quickly, she clicks on the link to find another photo of Oksana, this time on the streets of Paris.

While Eve knows that Oksana's primary residence is there, it still didn't add up as to why Oksana would've gone home so suddenly.

She tries contacting her one last time, and then blessedly, she answers.

'Why are you in Paris?'

'Sorry for taking so long to respond. Been busy.'

'What's happened?' she texts rapidly.

There's a slight delay as Oksana taps away. 'Maxi died unexpectedly. Apparently he had been secretly ill and never told Anna. She's devastated.'

Okay and that's not at all what she had been expecting, but at least it made sense. Oksana had a funny definition of 'soon' though. She thinks of telling her off for that, among other things, but decides not to considering the circumstances.

'Give her my condolences. I can't imagine how painful that must be...When can I expect your return?'

She knows it's incredibly selfish to ask this, but things had been going wonderfully until Anna got in the way. What were the chances that her husband would die right now? Once again Eve is convinced there really was a bad luck faerie following her around wherever she went. The bitch could cross oceans and borders too. Go figure.

'I'm not sure...I'll talk to you later, K? She needs me.'

Those last words play in her head on repeat for hours after, and all she can do is think about the past and what happened when her own father died. How her best friend at the time had comforted her. How one thing had led to another and they had ended up sleeping together in their shared grief. She doubts there's much love lost where Oksana is concerned...but Anna? The woman Oksana had been in love with before she even really understood the concept? If Anna were to initiate something...would Oksana be strong enough to resist?

With that thought in mind eating her up like a cancer, she grows more and more bitter as the day progresses until Zac starts steering clear of her and hanging out with the first of his guests to arrive.

Since Eve's got nothing better to do, she just sits there pool side, drinking, numbly watching all of these young and gorgeous people have a blast, and silently hoping for someone to take a nasty fall off the diving board and crack their skull open, spilling the squishy contents all over the place.

Someone sits down beside her and she startles out of her increasingly grisly scenarios, and looks over at them. He smiles at her in that self assured way people who are full of themselves do. Basically, how Oksana generally smiles. Instantly, she hates him.

“You don't like parties much, do you?”

Eve contemplates telling him to fuck off. She maintains her manners, but just barely.

“Not particularly,” she agrees.

“Me neither,” he says, stretching out in his speedo, very obviously putting himself on display. He has a nice enough body but nothing in comparison to Zac, who she definitely has _not_ been checking out on and off during the pool party.

Even drunk, Eve doubts he's being sincere. She assumes he's just trying to be agreeable and eventually worm his way into her pants. He had the definite look of a fuckboy.

“I'm Hugo, by the way,” he says, holding out a hand, which she ignores.

He seems amused by this, exactly like Oksana would react.

“Are you friends with Zac? I've never seen you before.”

“Recent acquaintance.”

They sit in silence for several seconds, the splashing and shrieking filling it up, and then, “Well, I can see that you're not in the mood for me trying to put the moves on you, so I'll leave you be.” He stands up, giving her a good view of his ass, and smirks back at her, “But if you're interested, I'll be over there,” he points towards the guest house. “A few of us are going to have some fun and thought you might like to join.”

Eve's a little gobsmacked and flattered by the invitation. She's by far the oldest person here and yet they had singled her out to have a threeway? Fourway? Whatever way?

“I'll think about it,” she says, without thinking.

“Well, don't think _too_ long,” he winks and then departs.

If she _were_ to go there, would it really matter? Oksana had cheated on her, was probably cheating on her right now, so it was only fair. She should get a little payback for once, let her know how it feels.

Sudden surety and confidence floods her system as she finishes her drink, and she actually makes it about half way there before Zac is blocking her path and taking her aside. “What are you doing there, Eve?”

“None of your business,” she says, unintentionally reiterating Oksana's own words. And she was right. He _is_ really annoying.

She tries to move passed him but he again blocks her way. “I think maybe you should go home now.”

“You kicking me off your property now? That's not very nice. I thought you were supposed to be the nicest guy in Hollywood?”

He raises his hands in surrender. “Look, I get that you're pissed at Oksana for leaving you like that, but she had a good reason and-”

“Oh, so now you're _defending_ her, is that it?”

“You're drunk and not thinking clearly. You'll regret this, Eve. Let me walk you back.”

Sluggishly, the words seem to be making some sort of sense, so she nods, and he sighs in relief, leading her out of his backyard.

“Some friends you have,” she grumbles sleepily as he half carries her to Oksana's villa. “Trying to seduce a drunk lady.”

Zac makes a face. “Hugo's not my friend. I didn't even invite him. He invited himself.”

She puts a hand to his exposed abs, strokes them absentmindedly and he jerks back and holds her hand away from his flesh. “How about we keep our hands to ourselves, all right?”

“You touched me first. You're touching me right now.”

He huffs and practically drags her the rest of the way and gets her into bed.

“I'll be by to check on you in the morning. I've put some aspirin and water by the bedside. Sleep tight.”

“Wait,” she says, grabbing the material of his wet swimming trunks, “thank you,” she mumbles and immediately passes out.

She spends most of the next day recuperating from her wicked hangover and ignoring all of Oksana's attempts to contact her. 

The following day she goes for another jog and shortly thereafter is accosted by the paparazzi. Well, just the one guy, so really the paparazzo. She does her best to ignore him, but then he starts jogging _with_ her, snapping off photo after photo, and requesting recompense for his drone, as well as badgering her about Oksana, and then she just loses it and tries to grab his camera out of his hands, and when that fails, literally punches him in the face.

The damn bastard seems thrilled by the violence, and even though her hand was throbbing now, she likely would have done some real damage if Zac hadn't intervened again and gotten her out of there. Her hot, many abbed, guardian angel.

Two days later a man shows up at the villa with a note from Oksana. She nearly rips it up on the spot, not unlike the letter Oksana slipped under her door the day after she cheated on her.

'I'm not sure what's going on with you, Eve, but since you won't answer my calls, we'll have to resort to good old fashioned letters. The funeral will have ended by the time you're reading this, and I will be returning shortly thereafter. I'd very much appreciate it if you could join me on Lesbos this evening. The man before you will take you there. His name is Yannis. Don't bother asking any questions though. He's been instructed not to tell you anything. And he only speaks Greek anyway.'

Despite still being massively pissed at Oksana, she's intrigued by all the secrecy and decides to go with Yannis. If nothing else she'll be able to slap her again.

“Do you _really_ only speak Greek, Yannis?” she asks him after getting into the car.

He gives her a blank look, but she's pretty sure he understood what she said. Whatever, it didn't matter. She'd get down to the bottom of this mystery soon enough. 

He drives her to a field and a helicopter. She had thought she heard something earlier today but didn't pay it any mind.

She half expects Yannis to suggest she fly the craft, but he doesn't. The blades whir to life and they lift off. When they get over the mainland, she gets another aerial view of Greece like when they arrived, albeit from considerably less height. She can actually make out individual people here and there amongst the low lying ancient looking cities. The journey is so far that he has to touch down briefly in Larnia to refuel before attempting to cross the open water.

It's tedious being in a noisy craft with a silent man for nearly four hours, before touching down again on top of a mountain. Not a particularly high up mountain, but a mountain all the same. Yannis directs her downwards and with nothing better to do, she follows the rocky path down and towards a flatter, greener area, lush with various types of flora and a number of pine trees, so it smells wonderfully fresh here despite the lack of wind flow.

Oksana is staring out over the small town of Agiasos, which is situated at the bottom of Mount Olympus, which is _not_ the one all the myths are about, and therefore far less sought out and far more intimate. There's a picnic set up here, complete with the cliched plaid blanket and wine glasses. Oksana is dressed in a free flowing fit and flare sundress, her arms clutched loosely behind her back, completely at ease. The bold red of the dress really pops out amongst all the green and sets ones eyes straight to it. Her hair is up in an effortlessly messy but attractive looking bun, which the sunlight is hitting just so, giving her a bit of an otherworldly glow.

Eve by comparison looks like shit, and she's even more resentful of coming here now just because Oksana asked her to with no explanation whatsoever. Still, the serenity of it all is like a damn painting, achingly beautiful, and she can't help but to take a mental photo or two.

With a resigned sigh, she walks over to her, stands by her side, looks at the closely knit and faded red clay topped town they had flown over on the way to the mountain top. They stay that way for a little while before Oksana says, “Thank you for coming, Eve.”

“Why are we here, Oksana?”

“I wanted to show you my favourite spot in Greece.”

“I thought you said you hated Lesbos?”

Oksana turns to her then, for the first time making eye contact. She touches her arm. “Only because I never came here before with someone I cared about.”

Eve pulls away. “You care about me so much you left mid-vacation to go be with Anna?”

“Her husband died suddenly, I had to go,” returns Oksana, confused. “You're not seriously mad at me for wanting to give my friend some comfort?”

That was the wrong thing to say to her.

Eve makes a fist. “Depends what you mean by _comfort_.”

At first Oksana seems outraged by the insinuation, but then her face falls and Eve knows she was right all along. And God, why did it suddenly feel like they were right back where they started?

“It's not what you think...” starts Oksana lamely, reaching for her once more. Eve stays out of her grasp and Oksana drops her hand limply by her side. “We didn't sleep together. I wouldn't do that to you. Not again.”

Eve is momentarily shocked by that, disbelieving her. Could she really have misjudged the situation that badly?

“But something _did_ happen,” she pushes, determined to hold onto her bitterness after finally letting go that last bit and trusting her completely.

“Yes,” admits Oksana, swallowing thickly. “She was so sad after the funeral, so I was holding her and then...well, she kissed me, and I kissed her back for a few seconds...” Oksana closes her eyes and scrunches up her face in a pained manner, as if waiting for the slap to come any second now. Or the push off the mountain.

“And _then_ what happened?” she says acidly. “Please, don't spare me any of the details.”

Oksana pops open her eyes and gives her a puzzled look. “Nothing else happened, Eve. I pulled away and told her we couldn't do that because I was in love with someone else.” She reaches for her, and again Eve swats her hand away.

“I thought you loved _both_ of us?”

“I thought I did too,” replies Oksana softly. “Maybe that was true before. But I don't love her anymore.” She cups the side of her face. “Not like I love you....”

Oksana could just be making up a story to minimize what she actually did. She could just be trying to cover her tracks now that Eve's caught her out again. She could've concocted something plausible but not too terrible so Eve couldn't be too mad. But if that were the case, why not deny all together? Why admit to anything at all?

So it came down to this, did she take the leap of faith and accept Oksana's version of events as fact? Or did she go back on her own word and replant the seed of doubt, let it sprout anew? Would she be doing that for the rest of her life if she stayed with her? Or was Anna the final test of Oksana's devotion to her, and now that Oksana had seemingly passed this last hurdle, Eve had nothing to worry about in future?

She pulls away again, walks a few paces and rubs at her face with a sigh. She turns back. “I want to believe you-”

“But you're _still_ not sure I'm trustworthy,” finishes Oksana somewhat bitterly. And if anyone got to be bitter here, it was her. “What happened to no more doubts?”

“What happened to being exclusive?” she fires back. Oksana's face falls again and Eve decides to dig the knife in deeper, let her know how it feels. She smiles a terrible, fake smile. “You know...I almost had a three-way with some hot young people at Zac's house party.”

She tells her this as a way of making her angry, but also, to possibly shake some more truth out of her.

Oksana's head whips up in alarm, and then she smiles slightly, rolling her eyes. “No, you didn't.”

“Yes, I did,” she says smugly, enjoying Oksana's disbelief.

“You didn't,” asserts Oksana with more firmness as if willing it to be the case.

“I did,” she asserts back just as firmly.

She's waiting for jealous Oksana to rear her ugly head and get revenge now...but it doesn't happen. Instead, Oksana seems on the verge of tears. Sad or angry, or a mixture of both, she's not sure. Not wanting to fall for that trick again, she instead pushes even harder. “What would you have done if I had _actually_ slept with them?”

“Killed them all,” says Oksana solemnly, never taking her watery eyes off Eve's.

She's not sure why, but the thought of Oksana murdering people always thrills her and turns her on a bit. She thinks it's due to her conflating Oksana and Villanelle in her mind. More than once Eve had masturbated while watching one of her movies. That _probably_ should have been a sign that she wasn't quite so straight (or normal in the head) as she thought, but of course, obliviousness and denial were much easier to cope with.

“How would you have done it?” she says eagerly, placing a hand to her chest.

Oksana blinks back the tears and raises her eyebrows in a bewildered manner. “Uh...I guess I would have chopped them up with an axe or something.”

Just like in _Sorry, Bunyip,_ her favourite Villanelle movie.

Flushed and hot, she bites her lip and says, “And _then_ what?”

Oksana still seems to have no idea what's going on, if this is some sort of bizarre game to throw her off yet again. “I don't know...poured acid on them so they couldn't be identified?”

“Yeah, that's smart,” says Eve, pressing into her, wrapping her arms around her neck. “And after that?”

Oksana places her hands to her hips, clearly deciding to just roll with the sudden change of pace. “Came home to my girlfriend and made out with her.”

Eve doesn't waste anymore time doing just that, and before she knows it, she's being fucked against a tree. It's not the most comfortable place she's ever been fucked, but it's also not the least comfortable.

Afterwards, when they're sitting, propped up against the same tree, Oksana looks to her and says, “As fun as that was, Eve, I actually had a _different_ reason for bringing you all the way out here.” She gets to her feet, goes over to the picnic basket, picks something up, puts a hand behind her back, and then abruptly becomes nervous. “I was going to save this until the end of our trip...but recent events have led me to fast track my schedule.”

“You're not going to propose to me right now, are you?” she blurts, dumbfounded. How did she not clue in earlier? All of the secrecy. Being brought to this gorgeous mountain range right before sunset...

Oksana freezes but shakes it off quickly. “No, of course not. Don't be silly, Eve. Your divorce isn't even finalized yet.”

Oksana's clearly ill at ease.

“What's that behind your back then?” she points.

“There's nothing behind my back.”

“Prove it. Show me your other hand.”

Instead of responding, Oksana goes and sulks over by the edge of the cliff overlooking the ocean, legs dangling off.

Eve comes over eventually, carefully lowers herself, and hugs her sideways. “I'm sorry for ruining your proposal, Oksana. But I was never going to accept anyway.”

“And why not?” demands Oksana hotly, side-eyeing her with a scowl.

“So you _were_ going to propose! I knew it!” she grins victoriously.

When she realizes she was just tricked, Oksana pouts. “Fuck off, Eve. I want to be alone.”

Rather than grant that wish, she rests her head on Oksana's shoulder, linking their arms and then their fingers. “You know, I was the one who proposed to Niko.”

“No way. Why would you do a stupid thing like that?” scoffs Oksana, to Eve's irritation. Oksana smirks. “I just assumed you agreed in your sleep one night and it was a shotgun type of deal at the altar.”

“Contrary to popular belief, he wasn't always so -”

“Boring? Dastardly? Fudge faced?”

Eve rolls her eyes. “Well anyway, I made him my famous, or I guess _infamous_ Shepard's Pie...and he ate all of it with a smile on his face...and that's when I knew. So I just popped the question right then.” She squeezes Oksana's hand. “If I'm ever ready to take the plunge again, _I'll_ ask _you_.”

“No. This was _my_ thing, Eve,” glowers Oksana. “You already got to do this!”

“Okay,” she smiles, trying not to laugh at Oksana's adorable indignation. “If I'm ever ready to again, I'll ask you to ask me. Does that sound okay?”

“Fine,” grumbles Oksana.

“Now, it'd be a shame to let all that good food go to waste, wouldn't you agree?”

They settle onto the blanket and Oksana pours them each a glass of wine. She swirls the red to match her dress around a few times before taking a casual sip. And just like that they had shifted back into their more typical routine of simply being with each other without the drama. She hasn't totally forgiven Oksana yet for what she did, but she knows she will sooner or later, and she knows Oksana knows she knows. Being with Oksana is like oxygen to her at this point, she can't live without her. And as scary as that thought is, it's somehow exhilarating too. She never felt this connected to Niko, even on their best days.

“So, I saw that you punched a paparazzo. How did it feel?”

Then again...maybe drama _was_ their normal.

“Cathartic as fuck,” she says with a pointed look.

Oksana raises an eyebrow and smiles. “You pictured _my_ face, didn't you?”

“Yeah.”

“Would you do it again?”

Eve's not sure if she means violence against _her_ or violence against the paparazzi.

“Only if my girlfriend continues to be an asshole.”

Oksana smirks further at that and Eve wonders if she's going to purposely act out in future just to make Eve lose control every once in awhile. Just so they could be the same. “Is it weird that I found it hot?”

“Oksana, we literally just had sex because I love the idea of you murdering people.”

_It's why we slept together in the first place._

God, is that _really_ the reason? Okay and seriously, maybe she _should_ go see a therapist after all?

Oksana chuckles, completely unperturbed by Eve's unconventional fetish.

Surely she must have been aware though? And now Eve's wondering if Oksana purposely said she'd murder the party goers because she knew what Eve's reaction would be. But she's overthinking things again, right?

“Wow, we're a pretty fucked up couple, aren't we?” 

Eve thinks Oksana's being very considerate including herself in that equation. Character growth.

“Yes, we are. But I wouldn't have it any other way.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I MAY have been a teensy tiny bit inspired by the finale. I almost did a “You're mine. I'm yours,” line, but took it into a...different direction instead. :P
> 
> I'm not sure if the last bit constitutes as breaking the fourth wall or not (like talking about the bad luck fairy...who was supposed to be me LOL), but it made me giggle and that's all that counts. Should've had them stare off to the side the whole way through this like in Fleabag for their inner thoughts. I just realized that JD from Scrubs did the same thing whenever he went into fantasy mode. Haha.
> 
> It took me awhile to decide whether or not Oksana would've done anything at all with Anna, or if Eve just THOUGHT she did, and ultimately I figured she kind of HAD to, just to get it out of her system once and for all and to make her realize without doubt that's not in fact what she wants anymore. I think Eve might make her move out of Paris though. XD
> 
> I would've posted this a bit earlier but I noticed I forgot to include the paparazzi...so I had to throw in a little interlude with that too. I feel like there's a lot of face punching/slapping going on in this fic...and obviously as long as women are the perpetrators, it's perfectly fine and no assault charges should ever be made. That's how real life works, right? :P
> 
> So now we've just got the epilogue to go...any predictions what that will be? Hints: Time jump + RED + flashy flashy =


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm almost sad to put this one to bed...my second longest baby in existence. 
> 
> Without further ado...the end of the show

 

“One more, just one more,” she pouts and gives her best puppy dog look.

“What was wrong with the _last_ dozen?” says Eve irritably, rolling her eyes.

“The angles still a bit off. And you're not smiling right.”

Eve puts on a huge smile and also gives her the finger. “That better?”

Oksana snaps a shot off before Eve can put the digit down. “Perfect.”

“Hey!” exclaims Eve making a play for the phone. “You better not post that, Oksana!”

“I won't,” she smiles sweetly, yanking it out of reach. “Just take one more selfie with me and then I promise we're done.”

Eve sighs her long suffering sigh but Oksana doesn't take personal offense to it anymore. She knows it's simply Eve's way of telling her how much she cares.

Eve scooches back over beside her on the backseat of the limo and lays her head gently against Oksana's, making sure not to ruin her elaborate updo.

“Say 'I'm the greatest lover you've ever known',” she says, finger hovering over the button.

“You realize that means you're saying that about me too? Not just _me_ about _you_?”

“Well, duh, Eve, why do you think I suggested it?”

“You really think that?”

“Of course I do. You know I think you're a freak in the sheets.”

“You know, some people might take offense to that. You're really not supposed to use that word anymore.”

“What word?”

“The F word.”

“Fugly?”

“No, I obviously meant-”

“Floozy?”

“Are you done yet?”

“Foxy Mama?” Eve moves away so Oksana stops being a little shit and gives up on the selfie for the time being. “Sorry, I'm just super excited about tonight.”

“Well, that makes one of us then.”

“What? I thought you were looking forward to this too?”

She's honestly bewildered by Eve's lack of enthusiasm. After everything it took to get this point, she can't believe Eve doesn't want to flaunt her sexy piece of eye candy to the world.

“I never like going to these things,” explains Eve, fidgeting in place. “They're so...unnatural. Everyone's staring at you, taking endless photos. I never know what to do with my hands.”

“I'll be by your side this time, so you've got nothing to worry about.” She takes Eve's hand in hers, stilling her increasingly irritating movements. “We've got this.” She flashes her a genuinely bright smile. “It's going to be amazing.”

The limo passes by a large line of screaming fans behind the barrier, a constant stream of flashes in the near distance where the red carpet was.

They come to a stop soon after.

She turns to Eve. “You ready?”

“Let's just get this over with,” sighs Eve.

“That's the spirit,” she says as chipper as possible.

The red carpet attendant opens her door first, then goes over to Eve's, and Oksana just stands there and lets him. Maybe not the most chivalrous thing she could have done, but chivalry was dead and Oksana had no interest in resurrecting its corpse just for appearances sake.

They link arms and then step forward onto the carpet and into the spotlight, and the wall of screeching fans sounds like a...wall of sound, and Oksana is glad she preempted the headache with some ibuprofen.

She supposes they really should go over and greet them and take some selfies and give some autographs, but she already knows she'll have to entertain the captain's daughter tonight, and that's enough of an annoyance in and of itself, so all she does is wave to them as she passes by, blowing kisses and tugging Eve along before she can break loose and force her to follow. Besides, she can see that they've set up a massive movie poster backdrop for them to take their own photos with, and since both her and Eve are prominently displayed and larger than life there, it's almost as good as the real deal.

Oksana can distinctly hear the many standard 'I love's you's' and 'marry me's' and 'I want to have your babies', and the less standard one...'choke my gay ass to death, Villanelle!' and is doubly thankful she didn't get stuck within ten feet of _that_ weirdo. Only Eve was allowed to request that of her, albeit in slightly different language.

They come up to the first interviewer, just before the official photoshoot backdrop, which is the title of the movie plus one of their major sponsors, back and forth across the whole nine by nine foot expanse. The woman is clearly here as a way of passing the time while the current cast members get their pictures taken. In this case, it's Elena and...Huldiberaht.

Oksana does a double take at that, and notices Eve doing the same. She might have wondered how they even met, but Oksana _did_ actually remember to try and get him a part after the restaurant incident, and there happened to be a one line slot that opened up before they finished filming.

She has to admit, they look really good together. They're both insanely attractive, in their colour coordinated purple outfits. Perhaps even better looking than her and Eve. Wow, her ego had really taken a downsizing lately if she were willing to admit that, albeit only to herself, but still.

The interviewer looks at them, arm in arm, and then says, “You excited to be here tonight?”

Well, this was off to a great start. That's about the dumbest question they can ask them. What do they expect them to say?

_No, I don't want to be here right now. I resent having to come here and talk to you for the sake of my job. I'd much rather be lounging in bed with the woman beside me watching reruns of The Real Housewives and laughing my ass off at how over the top everything is, re-enacting the best moments in my underwear._

“Absolutely thrilled,” she returns without a moments hesitation. “It's a dream come true.”

“Delighted,” says Eve, when the microphone points to her next.

“Considering all of the controversy surrounding the production, were you surprised to get to this point?”

Okay then...maybe she had underestimated this lady.

“And what do you mean by that?” she asks politely, knowing full well what she's getting at.

This bitch doesn't even bat an eye. “The scandal of course. Your affair.”

_What about the two attempts on my life? Nothing to say about that much more interesting shit?_

She feels Eve stiffen beside her and has to mentally check herself before responding. “We've already admitted to that and gone over it multiple times. Do you really have nothing more relevant to ask us?”

“I think it's _very_ relevant,” pushes the bitch, who apparently thinks she's some sort of Barbara Walters impersonator. “You claim to be a role model for young people the world over and yet you don't conduct yourself in a savoury way. Why should they continue to support you?”

Clearly, even though the affair involved both of them, they're still targeting her, first and foremost, probably because they know she has a short fuse. Or at least, used to.

She puts a hand behind her back and presses the finely manicured nails into her palm. “If they were going to 'cancel' me, they would have done so a long time ago. The fact is, _Becky_ , despite all of my past shortcomings, I'm still a damn sight better than most of the so-called idols out there today. I don't bullshit about the important things, don't pretend to be something I'm not, and they _know_ that.” She takes a moment to let that sink in. “Now, this is a fucking movie premiere, so maybe ask about that?”

Eve closes her eyes in consternation but 'Becky' just looks at her with mouth slightly agape. She swallows nervously as Oksana continues to stare her down in her patented 'Villanelle' way.

Like a light is switched, she smiles brightly again and asks, “What were some of the greatest challenges playing your respective characters?”

It's their turn in front of the cameras now, and she squeezes Eve's hip reassuringly as the flashes go off. Oksana's in a sheer black stripped jumpsuit with a plunging neckline, bell bottoms, sparkles, and a cape. Well, not exactly a cape, more of a shawl stitched right in. Eve's in a somewhat shimmering white suit, also with a plunging neckline, her hair disappointingly tied back, but on point. Some overly loud fans scream for them to kiss, but she's sure as hell not ruining her blood red lipstick for fan service. They've kissed enough in other photos and videos, she doesn't understand how the masses aren't satiated by now.

With that over and done with, they make their way further along the carpet and to the next interviewer just outside the entrance to the theatre.

This clearly very gay man is a lot less intimidating than Becky, even though he's quite tall. Even she has to almost crane her neck upwards. She doesn't envy the camera man having to get them all in frame.

“You've been dating for months now,” he gushes. “You appear to be deeply in love. Is Eve the one? And can we expect wedding bells any time soon?”

Okay seriously, where were all the sexist questions about their outfits? And why are they directing all of them towards her?

“You'll have to ask her that one,” she smiles and side-eyes Eve.

“Perhaps some day,” returns Eve into the mic, also with a side-eye back. “For now, we're content as is.”

That was mostly true. After she got over her failed proposal, the rest of their Greece vacation went smoothly enough, and they had settled into an easy rhythm back home...well, _Eve's_ home in London. It was no Paris by any means, but she was getting used to it, day by day. Apparently compromise was necessary for long term relationships. She hadn't sold her Paris flat though and periodically returned to it, and to visit Anna. Most of the time unsupervised...but not always. The first time Eve and Anna had met had been...memorable, to say the least.

Finally off the red carpet, they make their way indoors. The place is buzzing with familiar faces from the shoot, some she hadn't seen in many months, others just the previous day.

Kenny was here with his date, some equally sickly looking girl, who Oksana wouldn't be surprised to learn was his cousin. And she's clearly pissed at him for ignoring her and sneaking glances at Elena.

Carolyn and Konstantin are laughing overly loudly with their favourite 'vicious' drinks in hand, chatting with Bill and his wife. She still didn't understand the attraction, but if Konstantin was happy enough to marry her, so be it. Maybe fourth time was the charm...

She sees a somewhat chubby, out of place girl shyly waving in her direction, then notes Captain Vogt beside her, and privately rolls her eyes. “Oh, go on then,” smirks Eve, subtly pushing her in their direction.

She struts over to them and shakes the captain's hand. “Long time no see, Jeni. You look good. And this must be Zelma. Nice to meet you.”

“Actually, she just goes by Zed now,” corrects Vogt.

_Don't blame her. Poor kid_. She wonders if she'll ever be famous enough that people refer to her simply as O.

“Do I get a hug, Z?”

The girl seems to expire on the spot at the very notion, but then squeezes so hard, Oksana's not entirely sure bones haven't cracked.

“Wonderful hug,” she praises, practically coughing blood up afterwards. “You don't by any chance wrestle bears in your free time, do you?”

“She's on the wrestling team, actually,” says Vogt, apparently trying to hold back a laugh. “Four time regional champion.”

“Wow, that's really impressive, Z. You should be very proud of yourself! Do you want a picture together?”

The girl beams at her, and in the photos, and she makes boring one sided small talk with them for a couple more minutes before she notices that Eve has come into contact with...Niko and his date, some minor actress by the name of Gemma she thinks. 

“I'm very sorry for cutting this short,” she apologizes, “but I need to go rescue my girlfriend.”

“Do you need backup?” pipes up Z, one of the few times she's spoken so far, and Oksana has to genuinely bark out a laugh at that.

“I think I can manage on my own. But if not, I'll give you the signal and you can bulldoze Niko with another of your amazing hugs. Or maybe put him into your most devastating hold. Deal?”

“Deal!”

Vogt looks alarmed by this suggestion and even more alarmed by her daughters willingness to go along with it.

They high five each other and then, hand stinging, she makes her way over to Eve's side, loops an arm around her waist and says, “My God, Niko, you cut the beast off! I barely even recognized you without that monstrosity!”

“Oksana,” he greets pleasantly enough, though obviously a bit peeved at her childish antics. Absentmindedly he traces his now barren upper lip. “Yes, we decided a change was in order.” He looks to Gemma and Oksana just knows that it was all her idea to chop it off, not his. “This is-”

“Gemma Arterton,” she finishes for him, over enthusiastically shaking her hand. “Loved you in that zombie film. Nice, dark stuff. It was kind of just a rip off of the videogame Last of Us, but enjoyable all the same.”

“Actually, that's not-” starts Gemma, last name unknown, but Oksana cuts her off as well.

“So, Eve, Z over there said she really wanted to get a picture with the both of us. Will you do us the honour of gracing us with your showstopping face?”

Eve barely holds back the eye roll, and goes along with her...in a different direction...towards the free food.

“I thought you said...” starts Eve, then shakes her head, trying to be annoyed and not amused. “You were just looking for an excuse to get out of that, weren't you?”

“What? How dare you, Eve,” she says in a hurt manner, putting a hand to her chest. “I was being chivalrous and coming to your rescue.”

“I didn't _need_ rescuing, Oksana, We were having a pleasant conversation.”

“Oh, well if you want to go _back_ and talk with your ex-husband and his 'trophy wife' with the _irritating_ voice some more, by all means, Eve, let's do that.”

She turns them around again, and Eve quickly puts on the breaks, not unlike that time on her jet. Before Oksana can gloat too much about being able to read Eve better than anyone else, a voice comes over the speaker system and tells them there's five minutes until showtime, so they have no choice but to go take their seats now. Wouldn't look so great if the stars of the film weren't present.

Oksana makes sure to snag a massive thing of popcorn before heading in. They've got reserved spots right up front beside Bill, Elena, Kenny, Carolyn and their significant others.

Neither of them has actually seen the final cut of this thing, so she's eager to see how it turned out. Editing could make or break a film. It was a well known fact.

Having to relive some of the cringey dialogue during the early domestic scenes is causing her some embarrassment, and she sinks a bit further into her seat, a knowing glint in Eve's eye. There's some consolation. At least the audience seems to find it funny in all the right places and she can tell that Bill is quite pleased.

When they get to the club scene, she's a little turned on all over again, and squeezes Eve's thigh surreptitiously, then lets it linger there, thumb stroking tantalizingly closer and closer to-

Eve's response is to remove her hand, clasp them together and keep them firmly between their body's. She doesn't so much as glance at Oksana until they get to the sex scene...which has been so heavily edited as to be unrecognizable. She can barely even tell what body parts the camera is supposed to be focusing on. If they were going to ruin it after all the strife it caused, they should've just cut it out completely.

“What the hell was that?” mouths Eve.

“Fuck if I know,” she returns, trying to catch Bill's eye, but he refuses to look in her direction.

The dramatic final showdown and their subsequent victory has the film coming to an end, and the obligatory applause ensues. She's not sure how much is genuine and how much is simply manners. In her opinion, the film is a bit of a dud. It held her attention and got enough laughs, and was overall better than she expected, but certainly not anywhere near as good as her Villanelle series. The sad truth was, nothing would ever compare.

The lights come up and people begin to filter out, to mingle in the lobby again and to head to the after party.

Before they get out of their seats Eve says, “I still owe you another selfie, don't I?”

“That you do, 'light of my life, fire of my loins,” she sings.

“You should _really_ get that looked at instead of singing about it,” says Eve straight faced, and it takes her a second to get it before _she's_ the one rolling her eyes.

“Lana Del Ray is a true poet, Eve. You're just jealous.”

“Sure I am. Now will you _please_ take the damn selfie?”

Oksana loves it when Eve gets all pushy, so she does as she asks and gets her phone out. They rest their heads together again, smile, and right as she takes the shot, Eve says, “Ask me again.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if 'freak' is actually a politically incorrect word currently, but this premiere would be taking place next year, so if it isn't politically incorrect now, it will be by then. 
> 
> I actually don't know what Gemma's last name is. It's literally not listed on IMDB. XD
> 
> “We gotta give the gays everything they want.” --I was gonna have Oksana say that at the beginning but then she refuses to interact with the fans and kiss for them later on...so it wouldn't have made much sense...but might have been in keeping with all the queerbait talk lately. I feel like, “I don't pretend to be something I'm not,” might be kind of relevant right now...
> 
> I thought of doing some sort of press junket stuff and like graham norton and all that...but like...that would've taken another chapter and I didn't wanna. :P In the press junket stuff there would have been the heads up accent challenge...somehow I pretty much completely forgot to utilize this ability in this nearly 80000 word fic. Like she 100% would've used it to seduce Eve from time to time...or just annoy her saying things she didn't understand. I don't know how I forgot to include it outside of German, but I'm going to imagine that IS part of how she seduced Eve in the beginning before everything went to shit...and maybe since that went so sideways, she stopped...
> 
> I think with this epilogue I was trying to convey (besides Oksana being happy) is that even though Oksana's just as annoying/silly/rude as she ever was, Eve's still willing to take the plunge with her again. I guess one things for sure, their marriage would never be boring.
> 
> Anyway, that's it for moi. As always, thanks for coming along on the ride with me. These two crazy cats got their happily ever after. Probably only realistic in AU settings. Which, speaking of, I've noticed there's been an explosion of those recently. I guess the ending to the season left a lot to be desired...hopefully this didn't leave a lot to be desired as well...and if it did...keep it to yourself. xD
> 
> Oh and for reference this is more or less what I had in mind for Oksana's outfit:  
> http://wheretoget.it/look/2185087
> 
> Also, if I could get a final burst of sugar from y'all, it would make my grumpy, bleeding crotch self way less grumpy and maybe even stop the devil tides all together. Part that shit like the red sea...wait a minute...


End file.
